Moving On
by fairycastles
Summary: In the last two post-war years, the Girl Who Lived hadn't had a moment of peace (which she desperately needed). Heading to the (seemingly) magically-redundant USA in hopes of being left alone, she managed to find herself in, arguably, the most drama-fuelled town in the country - Mystic Falls. Just her luck. Fem!Harry/Klaus
1. Home?

**rewrite date: 1st of april, 2016  
view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

An incessant buzzing.

That's all Nathalie could hear. The constant explosions were finally taking a toll on her hearing. Her throbbing head seemed to be leaking a warm, sticky liquid that was obscuring her vision and she blinked, trying to make out the blurry shapes and figure out what the hell just happened. As her senses returned to her, she realised that she was half buried under a wreckage, leg trapped beneath a nasty piece of rock which was slowly digging into her leg more and more. Her nostrils were flooded with the scent of dust, smoke and blood and she gagged slightly, coughing on the particles making their way down her airways. She lifted her wand, weakly, levitating the rock off her leg when she heard the most horrendous, heart-wrenching cry that no curse, hex or spell could ever cause.

Looking up in alarm, she noticed Hermione scrambling to her feet and two redheads crowing around a boy on the ground. Nathalie's heart dropped to her stomach, sinking further and further as she, too, attempted to pull herself completely out of the wreckage. The sharp rubble dug and tore harshly into her palms, knees and shins and she was losing even more blood but she didn't care. Emerald eyes widened in panic, she somehow managed to get herself off of the floor and she hobbled as quickly as she could towards the body. She couldn't help but beg any higher power that could possibly be listening that it wasn't who she thought it was – it would be entirely unfair and sadistic for the powers above to do this to her yet again. She prayed that they would show her just a little bit of mercy. Just this time.

She should have known it would be far too much to ask.

'No - no - no!' someone was shouting. 'No! Fred! _No_!'

Her heart stuttered, and she could have sworn it slowed to a stop. She couldn't do anything but stare at Fred, eyes completely wide in horror, the ring on her left hand feeling heavier and heavier each passing second. Those emerald green eyes were immobile but anyone who looked into them would be able to see a flurry emotion behind her horrified expression.

She couldn't say anything.

Later, she would reflect on this moment and wonder whether this is how Hermione felt when she was petrified back in second year. Her mind was running at five thousand miles per minute, but her body just wouldn't respond. All she could focus on was Fred's empty, blank, _dead_ eyes. Percy was desperately shaking his younger brother, tears streaming down his face and Fred's head jostled and rolled so that he was staring directly at Nathalie.

She choked down the bile crawling up her throat with a shuddering breath. When those blank eyes turned to her and the deep pools of brown that she would often seek comfort in showed no sign of that prankster spark, she could only focus on one thing.

That haunting expression on his face would give her nightmares for years to come, the ghost of his final laugh still present. That face told her everything, and the meaning of it crushed her already battered heart into thousands of pathetic, useless pieces. That expression proved only one thing to Nathalie.

Her Freddie was _gone_.

* * *

The dead were lined up in the middle of the Great Hall.

Nobody said a word as Ron and Hermione approached the Weasley's. Their shuddering cries permeated the air, reaching Nathalie's ears as she trailed behind them. Her movements were almost robotic as she slowly made their way towards them. Her mind had never felt so torn, being suffocated with guilt, total despair and borderline numbness in one minute, and terrifying alertness for danger the next. In that particular moment, she had reverted back to the former option; if only she had given herself up when Voldemort asked her to, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Fred would still be alive. He would have been alright – everyone would have been _bloody_ alright if she had just given herself up in the first place. Maybe he was right; maybe she _was_ a coward, allowing everyone else to die for her.

Nathalie blinked, moving her eyes back into focus. It was with a heart-wrenching jolt that she realised that no matter how battered a heart is, it can always, _always_ break more. Beyond Fred's body were Remus and Tonks, lying side by side, their hands barely touching.

She couldn't have stopped the constant flow of silent tears even if she tried. Without her permission, her legs started taking small steps towards the red headed crowd until they all looked up at her, heartbroken.

Her vocal chords had given up as well. The muscles in her face were tensed to a mask of what seemed to be indifference as she looked at the body, but it was unable to hide her steadily reddening eyes as they became more and more bloodshot. She didn't feel it when Mrs. Weasley took her left hand, eyes widening in surprise when she felt the diamond on her ring finger. She didn't see when everyone except for Ron, Hermione and George gaped at the ring. She didn't hear Mrs. Weasley's sob of '_Why?!_' when it dawned on her that she would never see her Fred get married, as he had intended to do as soon as the war was over. Instead, Nathalie brushed a strand of Fred's hair out of his eye, not caring that it was soaked in his blood. Her touch was gentle, almost feather-like – a complete contrast to her turbulent emotions. She could feel her resolve hardening the longer she stared at the peaceful face of her dead lover.

Unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, she pulled out a leather chord necklace that had a simple, silver band attached to it. She undid it, before tying it around her own neck and buttoning the shirt back up and smoothing it down.

Nathalie had enough. She was done with everyone she had come to rely on being ripped away from her; enough of watching her loved ones die for her mistakes; enough of being '_The Chosen One_' with expectations that would cause the world's strongest mountain to cave in – above all, she was done with Voldemort. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Fred's forehead, whispering a barely audible 'I love you' and smiled a small, watery smile before she turned to George. Her eyes hardened, moving from total vulnerability to unparalleled determination.

Her face conveyed all of her thoughts to the surviving twin, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what she was thinking. Nathalie stood up and placed her hand in her pocket, clutching the vial of memories Snape had left her with. She looked at nothing except the double doors of the Great Hall as she stalked towards the Entrance Hall, with every intention of going to Dumbledore's office.

The Gryffindor robe she wore to blend in was, surprisingly, still around her shoulders.

It billowed behind her as she went, waving a forlorn goodbye at the family that were watching her sadly.

* * *

**2 Years Later**

'The Wizengamot hereby declare Antonin Dolohov guilty of all charges.'

Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief, tuning out the rest of the trial and the sound of Dolohov's whimpers. This was the last scheduled trial that she was required to attend to give evidence against Death Eaters. Even after two years, it was like the war was never going to end - every time a Death Eater was imprisoned, another one was found and, for some reason, Nathalie seemed to be the favourite person for the Ministry to call on.

She supposed that she shouldn't complain, because at the end of the day, putting away the surviving remnants of Voldemort's army was entirely necessary to restore a sense of safety and peace in the Wizarding World - something which had been completely lacking for over twenty-five years. Nathalie had no doubt that another asshole with delusions of power would pop up at some point, although she had long decided that if her name was used in another prophecy then she might as well cast the killing curse at her own reflection and let it rebound right into her chest.

Nathalie was absolutely certain that, if she reached even half of the level of stress she did during the war, her psyche would not survive it.

Twirling the ring on her left hand, which at some point in the last two years had been moved to her middle finger, she reflected on the last two years of her life.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was now Minister for Magic (thank _Merlin_) and was doing a supreme job at smacking out corruption within the Ministry. He had offered her an Auror post, which she was more than capable of fulfilling. To everyone's (including her own) surprise, she turned it down. Perhaps one day she would take him up on his offer after he reassured her that the offer would always remain open - however, right now, she was desperate for a break.

It dawned on her not long after the battle at Hogwarts that even though the leader had been destroyed and the war was essentially won, it didn't mean that the battles were over. Now more than ever she was feeling strung out and ragged, more so than when she faced those dragons and basilisks in her younger days (which was a bit backwards, really). Nathalie put it down to her getting too old too fast. Hermione suggested that, even though the events at Hogwarts were together probably more stressful than her current, horcrux-free life, she had been somewhere that was comforting and safe to her. Nathalie could see the logic behind the statement. Hogwarts was her saviour, her safety blanket of sorts and now she was out in the big bad world by herself in an apartment she wasn't too bothered about. Whatever she felt, she didn't feel like she was home. That had been torn away from her time and time again.

It also didn't help that, even now, no matter what she was doing or where she was within the Wizarding community, she still had Daily Prophet writers reporting on what kind of sandwich she had that day. The Saviour of the Wizarding World would never get a moment of peace. And that saddened her, greatly. What she would do just for a quiet life, building a career and a family of her own to help her move on.

Unfortunately, the person that would have helped her move on is the one she grieved most heavily for.

She felt quite selfish sometimes, especially during her moments of self-pity. Fred was George's twin, his other half and even he was taking steps forward. His wedding to Angelina was in just a few days. Nathalie couldn't quite help feeling like she was stopping those around her from truly moving forward. Her despair wasn't this great even for Sirius, Remus, Tonks or her own parents - she put that down to it being a different kind of love.

Looking up, she realised that those present for the trail were beginning to filter out of the room. Giving her ring one last twirl, she stood up as well, grabbing her handbag off the ground and she placed it in the crook of her elbow.

It's over, for right now. _Maybe I should go away for a while,_ she thought. _Maybe that would make me feel better._

St. Mungo's had long insisted that she take a break once she explained to the healers that she had a horcrux hidden in her for sixteen years. They were completely under the impression that the presence of _two_ magical sources in her body may have hindered the development of her own magic. Nathalie would, begrudgingly, admit to the fact that her magic felt different than it used to; not necessarily weaker, but it just wasn't the same. This might be the most opportune time for her to make a getaway, to work on herself and her magic.

Pondering this thought, she nodded. She would go into Muggle London and buy a set of darts and a world map. Then she would go away.

* * *

'Are you sure you want to do this, Nathalie?' Hermione asked, a frown on her face. The trio were sat in Nathalie's flat in Devon, not too far from the Burrow.

They were in the living room, where Ron was lounging on the plush sofa whilst Hermione stood with her arms crossed watching Nathalie pin a large world map onto the wall. They could hear the sounds of Kreacher in the kitchen, making tea for three and preparing a plate of scones for Ron.

Nathalie nodded, not turning to look at her companions. She knew she wanted a break, but she had no idea where to go. So what does any person who can't choose a location do? They buy a map and a set of darts, throw one and hope for the best. 'I need a break, Hermione. I can't heal here,' she paused, sighing. 'I need to man up and get over it, and if going away will help, then so be it.'

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. They knew exactly what she was talking about, even if they didn't quite know how deeply Fred's death still affected her. Ron grabbed a scone from the tray Kreacher had just brought in, nodding a small thanks in his direction and the grumpy elf gave him a small smile which was more of a grimace than anything. Even if Kreacher rather enjoyed working for Miss Potter these days, it was still difficult for him to let grudges go after living with them his whole life. But he was trying for his Mistress and that's all that mattered.

'No-one's telling you to stop grieving,' Ron said, glancing at his friend cautiously. Nathalie smiled at him.

'I know they're not, Ron,' she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, 'But it's George's wedding soon. Even George is moving on, and nobody loved Fred more than George did. Still does.'

'You can't measure how long it takes you to move on against George,' Hermione frowned.

'I'm not, Hermione. But I've been trying to get better the past couple of years, and it's not helping here. The healers have said that maybe a change of scenery would help. How bad could it be? It's probably worth a shot seeing as I'm not actually doing anything productive here,' Nathalie shrugged. She ripped open the small packet of darts, before holding them out to Ron and Hermione. 'So who's going to choose where I'm gonna go?'

Hermione slowly reached for the bag of darts, taking them from Nathalie. Her hand tightened around the packet as her eyes narrowed. 'As long as you promise to visit. And you can't leave before George and Angelina's wedding.'

Nathalie laughed. 'Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, if I don't come back, Mrs. Weasley might just come and fetch me herself.'

Ron snorted, and Hermione nodded in satisfaction. She pulled out a dart from the packet and threw it at the map. To the amusement of her companions, it bounced off the wall and landed with a small 'thud' on the wooden floors. She huffed indignantly and threw the packet at Ron's head when she heard his laughter. 'You do it then, Ronald,' she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow at her, before pulling another dart out. 'Alright. Relax, would you?' he rolled his eyes as he threw it towards the map.

This time, it hit a target. Nathalie glanced over the map. The dart was stuck in an area called Mystic Falls, in Virginia, America. Contemplating this, she nodded to herself. That would be far enough away, she thought. Nathalie shot a thumbs up at Ron, who smiled smugly as he grabbed another scone.

'Kreacher,' she said, and the elf appeared with a crack. 'How would you like to move away for a while?'

'Whatever Mistress pleases,' he replied, voice monotone. Kreacher's eyes looked up curiously at his Mistress, who looked marginally happier than she had in a long time.

* * *

George and Angelina's wedding was in two days, and Nathalie had made plans to go after the reception; Merlin knows the kind of damage Nathalie would receive from every female Weasley if she missed a wedding.

It was for this reason that Nathalie was navigating the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, muttering under her breath as she did so.

Diagon Alley had definitely picked up the pace since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Shop owners lined the streets pulling customers into their stores as parents pulled their children in and out of the crowd shopping for Merlin-knows-what. Even Ollivander's was back up and running, much to Nathalie's joy. It wasn't as busy as it was during the summer, because a lot of kids were still at Hogwarts but it was still heaving. And there Nathalie was, amongst the huge crowd. Shopping.

She needed to get a gift for George and Angelina, as well as stock up on any magical supplies she may need whilst she was away. It was starting to sink in that she truly was moving; she had managed to secure a house in Mystic Falls quite quickly after speaking to a realtor over the phone (and dipping into her hefty Potter/Black fortune). Kreacher had begun to move her things from her little flat to her new home, seeing as elf-apparition was actually a very powerful and wonderful thing and Nathalie would probably splinch herself if she tried to apparate that far. She figured that she could just get any missing furniture whilst she was there - although she should probably transfer a good amount of gold into Muggle money, seeing as she wasn't too sure of what to expect in Virginia, magic-wise.

Nathalie debated whether to get an owl or not. She thought it might be a little cruel to get an owl for overseas post; it would take at least a day for the owl to make the journey, so she decided against it in the end. Ever since Hedwig died, she hadn't managed to convince herself to get a new owl. She would have to convince everyone to invest in phones instead - or check for a fireplace in her new home. Instead, she made her way to Magical Menagerie, shoving her way through the crowd and ignoring the occasional whisper of, 'Look, it's Nathalie Potter!'.

Stepping into the rather unpleasant smelling shop, she drew the attention of the shopkeeper immediately. A slightly chubby, balding man wearing a shirt that had fairly questionable stains on it quickly approached her, a broad smile on his face.

'Miss Potter!' he said happily. 'What can I do for you today?

Nathalie smiled at him, casting her eyes around the shop. 'A companion, I think. That would be nice.'

'Well,' he raised an eyebrow. 'We've just received a shipment of Puffskeins-'

Nathalie shook her head, and the man quieted. She wasn't sure what she wanted, really. Maybe a cat would suffice - she opened her mouth to ask for one, when she felt a warm, furry presence nudging her leg.

She looked down, and saw a white cat with bright, blue eyes and fairly matted, spotted fur and a plumed tail looking up at her expectantly. It reminded her of Crookshanks slightly, and she smiled. Nathalie knelt on the ground, giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ears and it purred in response.

'Is this fella for sale?' she asked, giving it a tickle under the chin.

The shopkeeper faltered. 'Uh- well, Miss Potter- this is actually one of our more troublesome animals. Pretty, but she's had a history of attacking customers. We can't seem to be rid of her. She's a kneazle as well, you see, so that makes her harder to sell-'

'How long does it take to obtain a license?' she interrupted.

'Well, up to three days but it can be rushed to a couple of hours with an extra payment-'

'Alright. Well, I would like to apply for a Kneazle license, please, and purchase this cutie as well. I can come back in a little while to fetch her?'

The shopkeeper was quiet for a moment, before he reached behind his desk and pulled out a small stack of papers for Nathalie to fill out. 'It's an extra fee of eleven galleons for a rush on the license, Miss. And seventeen galleons for the Kneazle.'

Nathalie stood up, sticking her hand in her bag in an effort to find her purse. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulled it out - she had bought it in Muggle London; it was a dark green leather, a silver twist clasp in the shape of a bird with a coin compartment on the outside and various places for notes, receipts and cards on the inside, about the length of her hand. She opened up the coin compartment, and pulled out the required twenty-eight galleons.

(She had cast an undetectable extension charm in the coin compartment.)

'I assume that there's a fee for the actual license itself, as well?' she questioned. The shopkeeper seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in, before nodding fervently.

'Yes! Sorry, I completely forgot about that, Miss Potter. It's six galleons for the license itself.'

She pulled out another six galleons that he hastily placed in the till and handed her the receipt. Wordlessly, she filled out the small stack of forms and allowed a slightly awkward silence surround herself and the shopkeeper, who rushed off the first chance he got - when a customer walked in.

Straightening herself up when she was done, she turned to the kneazle. 'I'll be back for you in just a little while.' Nathalie smiled.

The kneazle seemed to understand, as she turned and marched herself into a corner, curling up into a ball. Nathalie approached the shopkeeper who was tending to another customer, informed him that she would be back in a few hours for supplies, the license and her new pet, before she walked back out to the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

* * *

She didn't quite know what she was doing in Twilfitt and Tatting's, of all shops. Probably the most 'high-class' wizarding clothing shop in London, she had never found the need to go inside because everything she could ever want was at Madam Malkin's.

And yet, here she was, eyeing up the most wonderful travelling cloak that she could bet cost more than her new house in Mystic Falls.

It was beautiful. A deep, midnight black, it was fur-lined throughout and was completely soft to the touch. Surprisingly, one of the most appealing features of the cloak was the fact that it had pockets. Nathalie wanted this cloak. Badly. And damn, she was going to get it.

Turning around to a snooty-looking witch behind the counter who was frowning at Nathalie's clothing choices of the day - a thin, grey jumper with slits going up each side, black leggings and black, thigh-high wedge boots - she opened her mouth to ask for the cloak, when the door opened.

A familiar head of platinum blonde hair walked through the door, followed by three more. Draco Malfoy and his parents, Narcissa and Lucius where here, along with a blonde girl that she vaguely remembered seeing around Hogwarts. Draco and Lucius both looked fed up and bored (which, surprisingly, didn't suit them at all. She was much more accustomed to their arrogant sneer). The girls, however, were chattering excitedly.

Draco looked surprised when he saw Nathalie in the shop. She was a looker, but definitely not one of the most glamorous women he had come across in his life. She gave him a wave, before making her way to the woman behind the counter.

'I want that cloak,' she said shortly, gesturing at the cloak in the window.

'Right - well, that one is quite expensive, Miss. It's spelled with the most advanced heating and waterproofing charms. Perhaps you would like an alternative?' she replied, unable to restrain herself from curling her lip into a light snarl. 'We have a wonderful cloak just come in-'

Nathalie raised a dark, perfectly groomed eyebrow. 'I want that cloak. I would like you to retrieve it for me, so I can pay for it. If you please.'

The woman glared, before standing up and walking to the mannequin. She pulled the price tag from under the hood, before turning back to Nathalie. 'This might be out of your price range, Miss. It is, after all, a hundred and seventy-nine galleons.'

Draco's eyebrows creased in confusion. What the hell would Nathalie need such an expensive travelling cloak for? Of course, he himself was not against luxuries in life - hence why he was in this establishment - but Potter didn't seem the kind to bother paying so much for one item, especially an item of clothing.

'I'll give you two hundred if you just _shut up and let me pay for the bloody thing_,' she deadpanned, pulling out her purse and slamming a heavy pouch of coins on the counter. The girl looked surprised for a moment, before scrambling to go wrap up the cloak.

'What on earth do you need a travelling cloak for?' Draco finally questioned. His companions had noticed Nathalie at the beginning of the exchange; their expressions were quite neutral, although fairly curious.

It had been no secret that the Malfoy's and Nathalie Potter were somewhat friendlier after the war, especially Draco and Nathalie. She testified at their trial and made sure they got away with little more than probation. They supposed that they owed Nathalie quite a lot - she rejected this, however, saying that they never would have won if Narcissa didn't lie to Voldemort in that forest.

'I'm going away for a while,' she said wistfully, pulling several sickles and knuts out of her purse. After a moment, she gave up and simply poured them over the counter. That witch had annoyed her - so she was going to punish her by making her count out the majority of the price of the cloak in sickles and knuts. _Take that_, she thought, before realising that she really had to get a life. Rather badly. When the girl returned with the cloak wrapped up, she eyed the pile of silver and bronze coins and couldn't quite keep down the huff of indignation as she started counting them all out.

Draco Malfoy probably made the most inarticulate comment of his life. 'Eh?' He didn't notice the small glares his parents shot him when he made such a sound.

'I think I need a break, don't you?' she replied, smiling. 'I've been called into Death Eater apprehensions and trials constantly for the last two years. A change of scenery would do me good, I think.' She pretended not to notice when the entire Malfoy party cringed at the words 'Death Eater'.

To everyone's surprise, Draco walked over to her and gave her a light hug. 'Well, if that's the case.' He didn't finish his comment - instead, he gathered up the coins that Nathalie had placed on the counter and put them back in her purse, ignoring her squeak of protest. He pulled out a heavy pouch, dropping it on the counter with a _thud_. Nathalie glared.

'I can pay for my own things, you know,' she said. He knew full well that she was just as wealthy as he was, these days. She had the Potter and Black fortune to her name, as well as money coming to her every month from the Ministry.

'Think of it as a going away present,' he smirked, taking the cloak from the counter and handing it to her. 'It's a rather exquisite cloak.'

She took it, her face expressionless. She eventually gave him a warm smile and gave his arm a squeeze. 'Thanks,' she said.

He shrugged.

She laughed and waved at the group, before stepping out of the shop.

* * *

The sight of a marquee in the garden of the Burrow was becoming more and more familiar as the months went by. Wedding after wedding occurred; Bill and Fleur, Ginny and Neville, Hermione and Ron, and now George and Angelina. She could imagine her own marriage occurring in the backyard of the place where she considered home the moment she saw it as well one day.

Nathalie smoothed down her dress gingerly. Although she wasn't overly close with Angelina, she was incredibly close to George. He had insisted that she be the one that marries them, not that it took much convincing. She was completely honoured at the offer, although she regretted it ever so slightly now that the day had come.

Her dress was simple. Audrey Hepburn style, it was a deep red, went to her knees and she wore a gold belt to accentuate her waist. Her shoes were a matte black, round-toe stiletto heel, the platform and the heels themselves the same gold as her belt. In her hand was a black clutch with golden accents (with the added benefit of an Undetectable Extension Charm and a Feather-Light Charm, seeing as she was leaving as soon as the reception was over). Her ears were full of golden jewellery, and she finished her look with a simple gold choker necklace as well as a thick golden bangle around the top of her arm. Her tattoos along her right shoulder and underarm peeked out from beneath the dress. She looked pretty, although she would never be able to steal the show today - which was exactly her intention. Even if she was showing off her Gryffindor pride.

She made her way towards the marquee, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. It didn't take long for her to get there, and took even less someone to notice and approach her.

'Nat!' Bill said happily, giving her a tight squeeze. She hugged him back, laughing slightly at his excitement.

'Where is everyone?' she asked, figuring they were getting ready in their respective areas in the house. She thought she should at least say hello before she married them and left, as she didn't know quite when she would be back.

'George is getting ready in his old room, and Angelina is getting ready in Ginny's old one,' he replied, giving her a once over. 'You look good! When are you leaving?'

News of Nathalie's decision to take a _sabbatical_ of sorts travelled quickly though her surrogate family. Nobody would voice it, but they were glad she was going - not because they didn't love her dearly, because they did, but because they wanted her to finally heal somewhat and if leaving was the way to go about it, then so be it.

'After the reception,' she said, jiggling her clutch slightly. 'I suppose I'd best go find George, huh?'

He nodded, before giving her another quick squeeze and pushing her in the direction of the house. With a parting smile, he went off to find Fleur and Nathalie made her way to George's childhood bedroom.

She knocked, and waited. It took a couple of seconds for someone to come to the door, but after a couple of small crashes and curse words, George peeked out. When he saw his visitor, he opened the door as wide as it could go, grabbed Nathalie and pushed her into his room before slamming it shut again.

'Nervous, then?' she snickered, looking at his dishevelled hair. He had spent most of the morning running his hands through it. Midday seemed to be taking an age to arrive; he just wanted to get it over with and be married, because the stress was bloody awful. Wordlessly, he nodded as he began to pace.

This was so out of character for him, she couldn't help but laugh. Gently, Nathalie took his shoulders and sat him down on his bed, as he looked up at her like a very lost, very scared puppy. She grabbed a brush from his desk, smoothing out his hair, knowing that Angelina would kill him if he turned up looking less than pristine.

'This is absolutely bloody terrifying, Nat,' George said quietly. It was moments like these that reminded her of the differences between the twins. George had always been the more sensitive, mature, gentler of the pair. It was hardly surprising that, without Fred, the beginning of his wedding day wasn't much fun. His statement screamed a thousand hidden meanings - the main one being, '_I wish Fred was here._'

Nathalie smiled sadly, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. She moved her hand to his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 'I miss him too, Georgie,' she said softly. 'But Angelina makes you happy. You'll be alright.'

'Are _you_ alright?' he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. He saw a flash of pain and an overwhelming sadness in them - Nathalie was very good at keeping a blank face, although her eyes portrayed everything if one knew how to read them. And George definitely knew how to read them.

'I miss him every moment of every day, George,' she whispered, 'But I'll be alright. I just wonder sometimes, would we be married by now? We probably would, and maybe the aftermath of everything would be much easier to deal with if he was here.' The hand that wasn't squeezing George's shoulder had reached up to her neck and pulled out a thin, leather necklace that kept safe a silver engagement band. She fingered it, eyes glazing over for just a moment.

'But enough about me,' she said, a happy gleam returning to her eyes. 'This is your wedding day! There's no place for sadness here.'

'When are you leaving?' he asked, beginning to stand up. Nathalie had to crane her neck a fair bit to see him - she was much shorter than George. It was almost funny, the height difference.

'After your reception,' she replied, jiggling her bag to demonstrate her being packed and ready the same way she did with Bill. 'Kreacher's already moved all of my things, and I should probably go before the Ministry finds a way to make me stay.'

'That's quite soon,' he mumbled. After Fred's death, he had taken a protective role over his would-be sister-in-law. Nathalie could probably credit her mental state to George - he had helped her, just as she tried to help him move on from the loss and, if it wasn't for George, she'd probably be locked up in St. Mungo's.

'I have a fireplace,' she chuckled softly, getting louder when George brightened. 'I checked.' The journey would be hell, seeing as it was overseas and anyone travelling that way would probably be black with soot by the time they arrived as well as being very dizzy, although it was much quicker than flying and much safer than apparition, and less troublesome than a portkey. One of the reasons why she was so open to moving may have been down to the fact that, with magic, nobody was ever too far away.

He grabbed her in a bear hug, picking her up and spinning her around. She laughed as he put her back on the ground, giving her a kiss on the forehead before putting her down. She loved hugging George - it was like being with Fred, although for some reason she could always tell the difference. She leaned into him a little more, giving him a big squeeze before they let go of each other.

Nathalie took his hand, shooting him a genuine bright smile. 'Lets get you married, Mr. Weasley!' she chirped, tugging on his hand.

He groaned, but grinned anyway and let himself be pulled by the petite brunette towards the sound of his mother, shrieking his name as the clock on his bedside table struck 11:45.

* * *

'You must come home for Christmas, do you understand?' Molly said sternly, giving Nathalie a firm squeeze as they gathered in the kitchen in the Burrow, saying goodbye to Nathalie before George and Angelina left for their honeymoon.

The wedding was finished. Everything was beautiful, and Nathalie felt a great deal of sadness about leaving this wonderful family. The most important people were here, and their spouses as well. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ron, Ginny and Neville, George and Angelina, Percy and his wife Aubrey, Bill and Fleur, Andromeda and Teddy - even Charlie and Luna were there, much to Nathalie's delight. The room was feeling quite oxygen-deprived, but she didn't mind. Her heart was warmed by everyone's well wishes, hugs and demands that she come home soon. With everyone gathered in one room, she realised that, despite all of the loss she suffered in the war, she still had an incredible family and support system.

It made going away so much easier, because she knew that these people would be waiting for her to come home.

It was like a pass the parcel game - once she had said goodbye to one person, she was passed onto the next. By far, the hardest goodbyes for her were Hermione, Ron, George and Teddy.

First came Hermione. She had squeaked, trying to choke back her tears and tackled Nathalie in a tight hug. (If you need anything, then come home. Call. Skype me. You have my username, don't you? If you get into _any_ trouble, you need to let me know. _Promise me!_)

Ron was slightly less emotional, although the bear hug he gave her said a thousand words. Casting a slightly worried glance at Hermione (who was trying _very _hard not to cast a charm on Nathalie to make her stay), he simply said, 'What Hermione said,' which drew a watery chuckle from Nathalie.

George repeated his earlier actions - he picked her up, swung her around and kissed her on the forehead. There was nothing that needed to be said between the two - Nathalie knew. George knew. They both knew what the other would have said, so they left it at that.

Teddy's hair was blue. His hair often went this colour when he was sad. 'Natnat!' he said, reaching for her. Nathalie took him from Andromeda's arms before pulling him into a tight hug. He was usually quite a squirmy baby - this time, though, he put his head in the crook of her neck and cuddled into her.

'Natnat come home,' he mumbled. Nathalie took a shuddering breath, fighting back the tears as everyone in the room looked on at the scene, which was tugging at their heartstrings.

'Of course I'll be home, Teddybear,' she said, giving him a few kisses. 'I'll be home for holidays, and everybody's birthdays. I'll come back all the time.'

'Promise?' he said, looking her in the eye. His hair began to change colour from a deep blue to a light brown - he was cheering up.

'Promise. Especially for Teddy's birthday,' she grinned. 'Wouldn't want to miss you turning into a big three, now, would I?'

'No,' Teddy said firmly, nodding at her. The occupants in the room laughed, and the mood lightened considerably. Nathalie gave Teddy one last kiss, before she summoned Kreacher. He arrived in the room with a loud _crack!_, looking distastefully around the room before turning to his master. In his hand, he clutched onto the cage containing Nathalie's new pet (which she still hadn't gotten round to naming).

'Is Mistress ready to go?' he mumbled, not looking anyone in the eye. She pulled out her new travelling cloak, courtesy of Draco, from her clutch, draping it around her shoulders and tying it around her neck. Nathalie nodded at Kreacher, taking his free hand and waving at everyone in the room with the hand she held her clutch in. Without a warning, Kreacher disapparated with a loud _crack!, _and Nathalie Potter was gone.

* * *

The reception had only lasted into the early evening. George and Angelina were anxious to go on their honeymoon, and it had finished at about eight thirty.

This meant that, when her and Kreacher arrived in her new home, it wouldn't be long until sunset, if she had calculated the time difference correctly.

Nathalie put her clutch down before going to the front door of her house, stepping outside for a first-hand look at the property she had rushed to buy.

It was a quaint house, but on a large, fairly secluded property. She figured that she needed privacy so random people wouldn't happen across Kreacher - that would bring about a lot of panicked questions that Nathalie couldn't even begin answering. The realtor had told her that it was built in the prohibition era, although by the looks of it, it had been remodelled. It had a modern-cottage feel; woodsy, very brown with a driveway, lots of windows and a large garden until it hit the tree line to the forest beyond the home. Vines grew up and around each wall of the home that added to the woodland feel it all. There was a small greenhouse nearby, which Nathalie was very excited about - she had a few plants, mainly magical, that needed care and a few seeds she had planned on planting as well.

She was satisfied with the outside of the house, and made a mental note to get herself a car in the near future. Not like she needed to drive, but it would help with blending in and she couldn't apparate anywhere when a) she didn't know the town at all, and b) there were muggles absolutely _everywhere_. She made a mental note to cast some protective charms around the house when it got dark. She wasn't going to risk it right now, so she made her way back inside to inspect it and see if she could make any improvements.

There was a small hallway area that lead to an open-plan kitchen and living room, bathroom and a staircase which led upstairs. Nothing seemed overly interesting downstairs. She knew there was a cellar, and there was also a cupboard under the stairs that lead to the small storage area. She wandered down, checking for any faults or dampness. She found none. Nathalie turned to Kreacher.

'If you want, Kreacher, you can have the cellar to do whatever you want with,' she said. A face-splitting grin crossed his face, much to her surprise.

'Oh, yes, Mistress! Mistress is too kind,' he said excitedly, hopping a couple of times, the fake Slytherin locket bouncing on his chest. She put her hand on his head affectionately before making her way back up the steps. She continued up - there were two bedrooms and one bathroom that joined the two upstairs. One was considerably larger than the other, which she claimed as her own. She figured the other one could be a guest bedroom, for when Teddy comes to visit. She made a mental note to go out and buy some furniture the next day - the house was depressingly empty with only a sofa in the living room, as she had only ordered Kreacher to bring her belongings and leave nearly all of the furniture.

She wandered around her bedroom which faced the back of the home, away from the driveway. The window was large, almost floor-to-ceiling, giving her a lovely view into her garden and there was a large ensuite with lots of glass and brown panelling, a waterfall shower and a bathtub fit to throw a party in. She also had a walk-in wardrobe, enough space to put all of her clothes and shoes in probably two, even three times over.

It was a nice place, and she was happy she found it, but there was one part of the house she hadn't found yet - the loft.

To her surprise, the entrance to the attic was in her bedroom, in the far corner. Pulling on the trap door, a flimsy ladder fell out. She climbed it slowly, trying not to disturb it too much so she wouldn't fall.

It was a small space, but nothing an Undetectable Extension Charm wouldn't fix. It was also extremely dusty, but nothing that a quick _Scourgify _and _Tergeo_ couldn't clean up. All in all, the house was great. It suited her needs, and now that she knew what the attic looked like, she could just apparate up here if she needed to. This room would be her magic haven, she decided. And no one would find it.

She apparated back into her bedroom. She muttered an _Evanesco _at the ladder, removing the death trap and flicked her wand at the trap door, which sealed shut. She then cast a concealment charm on the door, and her haven was safe.

With a sigh, Nathalie realised just how tired she actually was. Kreacher had put her boxes of clothes in her bedroom, so she reached in for a set of pyjamas and quickly got changed, sticking her dirty clothes in the corner of the room.

Tucking her wand in her waistband, Nathalie reached into her clutch and pulled out a laptop and the charger that came with it, before padding her way downstairs. The floors were so very cold on her feet - carpets may be a necessity in this house, she decided.

She made her way towards the sofa, casting a quick cleaning charm before she settled onto it and transfigured herself a large, fluffy blanket from a bit of fluff on the ground. She felt herself relaxing - not long after that, the jetlag and excitement of the wedding day had caught up to her and she was fast asleep, leaving Kreacher to pluck the machine out of her hands and place it on the ground next to her.

Nathalie's new kneazle hopped up onto the windowsill, staring out into the forest. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, although she was a magical creature – she could sense that things may not be as they seemed. The cat glanced over at her new master. She was kind, with good intentions and she was happy to have Nathalie as her master. She hopped off the windowsill, padding quietly to the sleeping figure on the sofa before jumping up and snuggling into her chest. Nathalie stirred slightly, although she stayed asleep – instead, she wrapped her arms around her new companion, and continued to dream.

* * *

_I couldn't help myself.  
__Reviews are motivation! :)_


	2. The Wrong Side of the Road

**rewrite date: 1st of april, 2016  
view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

_'Oi, love. Love!'_

_Nathalie groaned, her scar prickling. Her head was pounding as she desperately tried to focus on the lovely, warm, familiar voice that was pulling her out of yet another nightmare. Thank Merlin, because she had absolutely no desire to have these dreams, knowing how dark they were. She wished she wasn't privy to them, but alas-_

_She felt something warm on her forehead as she was shaken gently. In her exhausted state, she reached out and grabbed for it only to realise it was attached to something larger and substantially larger than her, and incredibly soft. It was even warmer than whatever was nudging her. The room was cold so, without much thought, she wrapped her arms around it and pulled, snuggling against her new-found space heater._

_It was all well and good, until she felt it vibrate against her face. Was that a chuckle?_

_'I was gonna ask who this Gregorovitch fella was and whether you had another man in your life, but this reaction seems to remove that suspicion fairly well,' an amused voice chuckled softly. Without warning, the person she had currently attached herself to shifted her so that her face was in their neck, their arms wrapped securely around the tiny, very sleepy brunette._

_Recognition tickled her brain._

_'Freddie,' she mumbled, nuzzling further into his neck. He smelled very lovely, she decided. Sandalwood, the cologne she had bought him for his seventeenth birthday and a very mild smell of explosives and potions, from working on his experiments. Nathalie sighed in contentment, and forgot about everything but him and how lovely he smelled, just for a moment. She liked the jumper he was wearing, too. It was old and had a couple of holes in, but soft and fluffy and whenever he wore it, it smelled like him for _ages _if he didn't wash it so sometimes she stole it and she would go to sleep with it, unashamed of how unbearably clingy that was. Plus, he thought it was cute, even if he would tease her for it a little bit (he rarely washed the jumper because he knew that's how she liked it)._

_'Hi, sweet,' he said softly, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Sleepy Nat was probably one of his favourite Nats. The whole reason he had come upstairs to get her in the first place was because Molly had told him to, and he knew she would come storming upstairs if he didn't come back down, stat. Nevertheless, sleepy Nat was probably the most relaxed Nathalie - especially in this current environment. It would be unfair for anyone to expect Fred not to enjoy the moment for as long as possible._

_She mumbled in response, her grip tightening as she wrapped herself around him more._

_Fred's hand sneaked under her shirt so that he was tickling the base of her back, and she squeaked. His other hand had found itself scratching the back of her head, and she squirmed. Fred snickered slightly. Sometimes he wondered whether she would be a cat if she was an Animagus - she certainly acted like one sometimes._

_A few more moments of silence and he knew he wouldn't be able to delay his mother from storming upstairs whilst he was busy enjoying his company. So, with a small sigh of resignation, he lifted her head towards his and planted a firm kiss on her mouth._

_Her eyes fluttered, opening for a moment as she pushed back with her own kiss. It wasn't long until he pulled away, and she mumbled in disagreement, her eyebrows furrowed. Fred let out a hearty laugh._

_'Time to wake up, birthday girl,' he teased, gently prying her off of him and getting off the bed. Nathalie buried her head in her pillow, cursing quietly under her breath before she shot up, excitement gleaming in her eyes._

_'It's my birthday!' she said happily, although it came out as more of a question than a statement. She could legally do magic now! The trace wasn't on her anymore!_

_Fred grinned at her, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Everyone in the Burrow - including Fred - knew what Nathalie's coming of age entailed. It meant that, as soon as the wedding was over, she was going away._

_She didn't notice, though, too busy thinking about the cake that she knew Mrs. Weasley had baked for her. Her stomach grumbled loudly, demanding food and she blushed, instantly calming and looking up at Fred shyly._

_He snorted, before sitting back down on the bed, handing her the rectangular, black-rimmed glasses from the bedside table, which she put on wordlessly. 'Want your present?'_

_Her eyes widened. 'Oh, Fred- no- you didn't have to-' she stuttered, quieting when he raised an eyebrow at her._

_'I wanted to,' he said simply, pulling a small black box from his pocket. Her eyes widened._

_Every female in the world knows what the black box means._

_'I know you're going away, and that you are never going to let me come with you,' he paused, remembering the heated debate after Dumbledore's death (I am not risking your life for this! What about your shop? And George?! I gave you a thousand galleons to start this shop and it is your dream, don't you dare bloody abandon it now! You are not coming!), before he continued. 'So, instead of making you stay- which I'm not doing because I'm the most wonderful boyfriend,' (insert Nathalie's eye roll and Fred's cheeky smirk here) 'I'm going to give you a reason to come home to me instead.'_

_Fred slid off the bed and got down on one knee, for once a completely serious look in his eyes as he stared searchingly into Nathalie's emerald ones- which were watering. 'Nathalie Lily Potter, would you do me the great honour and make me the happiest man alive by becoming my wife?'_

_Nathalie's head screamed yes. Her voice box, however, seemed to have been _evanesco'd _into a far away dimension. Instead, she leaped off the bed and tackled him, her hands pulling his face close to hers. The kiss really said everything that needed to be said, and Fred knew it - when she pulled away, though, she nodded anyway. Her eyes were steaming with happy tears, and she wore an ear-splitting grin. He smiled back at her, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back from landing funny on top of a very sharp-looking stiletto he was sure belonged to Ginny._

_'I'll come home to you,' she said, looking at him in the eyes. He had never seen such a sincere proclamation from anyone. Even if it was an unrealistic promise, he was satisfied by the fact that her eyes had said to him what words did not - 'I will come home to you, or I will die trying.'_

_Fred's radiance would have brought the sun to shame. His joy was immeasurable. _

_'What's your mum gonna say when she sees the ring, though?' Nathalie asked, as Fred slipped it on the correct finger and gave her knuckles a kiss. 'I'm going away and it's Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow, plus I technically haven't graduated. She'll never let me leave if she knew. She'll never let_ you_ leave, either.'_

_She inspected it. It was a stunning ring - and she realised after a moment's inspection that it was actually their birthstones. Diamond, for Fred's April birthday and ruby for Nathalie's July birthday. A large diamond in the middle with a smaller ruby either side. The band was silver and encrusted with small diamonds that glinted in the sunlight. She could tell it was expensive. They were the kind of jewels that, when caught in a certain light, could be blinding to whoever was looking at it. Expensive, high-quality jewels._

_She didn't even want to think about how much this would have cost him._

_'I have a way around that,' he said, and with a flick of his wand, it had disappeared. She could still feel it on her finger, though. _

_A concealment charm._

_Nathalie grinned. _

_Screw mum, he thought. He grinned right back at her. Another wave of the wand and the door was locked - a final wave and a mutter of _Muffliato _coupled with a silencing charm meant that they weren't going to be disturbed._

_His lips found hers again, and they leaned back onto the single bed Nathalie was currently sleeping in._

_Then they celebrated their engagement._

_Fairly quickly, though. Mrs. Weasley was definitely not a force to be reckoned with._

* * *

'Mistress!'

Nathalie groaned as another raspy croak reached her ears. For once, Nathalie quite enjoyed her dream. She couldn't quite keep the glare off her face when she opened her eyes and saw Kreacher there - glaring right back at her.

Got some character, this elf, that's for sure.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up from her makeshift bed and looked at Kreacher expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

'It's 8am, Mistress,' he croaked, and her eyes widened. She hadn't slept past six in _months._ With this realisation, she felt much more refreshed, ready for the day. Nathalie hopped up, unaware of the kneazle still resting happily on her chest - her new pet fell off her with a yowl, hackles raised and Nathalie squeaked in surprise.

'I'm so sorry!' she said, eyes wide and her hands raised in defence. Slowly, the kneazle began to relax, sensing that her new master meant no harm. Nathalie slowly reached towards the animal, and waited for her to approach her for a tickle behind the ears. After a few minutes, she did just that.

Obviously, Hagrid's techniques from Care of Magical Creatures had finally paid off.

'I haven't given you a name yet, have I?' Nathalie realised. By this point, she had sat on the ground with her back against the old sofa. The kneazle had decided she was comfortable enough with her new master and had sat down between Nathalie's legs, which were crossed Indian-style. Distantly, Nathalie registered the sizzling of eggs and bacon from the kitchen (_when the hell did Kreacher get food?_ she thought), but concentrated on the animal.

'Camarin,' she said suddenly, and the newly-christened Camarin the Kneazle looked up at her owner curiously. Nathalie continued. 'It means shelterer, or guardian. That's one of the main characteristics of a kneazle, isn't it?'

Camarin looked at Nathalie a moment longer, before she purred softly, appearing to nod. Nathalie grinned in return, giving her a final tickle before standing up. Looking round, her morning energy seemed to fade.

She had a lot to do today, Furniture shopping, car shopping, food shopping..

Her thoughts wandered to the box in her bedroom full of muggle cash. Maybe she would visit the bank, too. Either way, she knew that she wasn't going to be without jobs to do today.

She turned her head to look out the window and decided, out of habit, to set up her wards. She didn't bother with changing or putting shoes on. Instead, she padded outside with Camarin hovering by her feet. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her wand into the air.

'_Protego Maxima. Fianto Duri. Repello Inimicum. Muffliato. Protego Horribilis. Protego Totalum._'

She repeated the charms until it looked like a heatwave had settled in a dome around her property; she watched it as it settled, turning invisible to the eye.

Camarin let out a sound akin to a meow, rubbing her face on Nathalie's legs. They both turned and wandered back inside.

* * *

Bonnie felt strange.

Something was different - something, some kind of energy she had never felt was penetrating the very fibre of her bones. With a shiver, Bonnie tried to focus on it. She had no idea what to do with this feeling, and quite frankly, didn't have the energy to deal with anything more - with Caroline in the hospital and everything about the Gilbert device hanging over their heads, the last thing she needed was one more thing that everyone would expect her to fix.

She brought her fingers to her temples, rubbing them gently. Sometimes, being a witch was extremely frustrating - the responsibility of keeping the balance was often a much bigger ask than it seemed, and her abilities were much more versatile than anyone else she knew. If anything else was to go wrong, she would be the one on the line to fix it because she's the powerful Bennett witch.

(Perhaps Bonnie would be much more unhappy if she knew that, actually, the new addition to Mystic Falls could take Bonnie down, permanently, with a flick of the wrist.)

* * *

By the time Nathalie emerged from her bedroom, clean, it was eleven o'clock in the morning. She had spent a couple of hours on the phone to the broadband company, casing various scouring and cleaning charms alongside Kreacher as she did so. Of course it would need a good, proper clean regardless, but Kreacher had happily volunteered for that job and she wasn't about to deny him of that. She couldn't wait to decorate her own home; the flat in Devon was rented and she wasn't allowed to make any major changes and Nathalie had no desire to refurbish Grimmauld place. Maybe she would do it the Muggle way, considering she had so much time on her hands. She'll decide whether she could be bothered to do that later.

She had thrown on a pair of black leggings, her Quidditch vest and a loose, grey cardigan as well as a pair of black flats. Comfort was key when doing boring errands, after all. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, held in place by her wand which she had used like a chopstick. Her makeup was minimal – enough to cover that slowly growing spot on her chin as well as the scar on her head, some lip balm as well as a layer of mascara to bring out her green eyes. A brush of her immaculately-kept eyebrows and she was ready for the day ahead. With any luck, she'd get round to painting too.

She walked to the end of her driveway, rifling through her handbag. Purse, check. Phone, check. House keys, check. Nathalie nodded, satisfied, just as a taxi pulled up her driveway. She got in the back and gave the driver a bright smile.

'Hi there!' she said happily. The taxi driver looked a bit taken aback at her cheerfulness, but she was unperturbed. 'Can you take me to the nearest car dealership, please?'

He nodded, looking up at her through the mirror. 'New in town?' he enquired. He had come across many newcomers to Mystic Falls in the last few months - and it was completely unusual. Mystic Falls was the kind of town where the community stayed to themselves, and nobody came and went. Now, everything's gone entirely to pot since the town started growing in population.

'Mmhm,' Nathalie confirmed, staring out the window at the view. She did think it was a rather quaint, lovely town - much nicer than Little Whinging was, although it paled to insignificance against Hogwarts (Nathalie couldn't hold this fact against the town - most places paled in comparison to Hogwarts).

'You better be careful,' the driver said, his American drawl very prominent. Nathalie couldn't help but think that, if she were at home, his accent would probably be Cockney. She always associated taxi drivers with Cockney accents. 'Lots of animal attacks happening lately; and you live by the woods, ma'am,' he said, glancing at her, gauging her face. She didn't appear to be worried - in fact, apart from a curious glint in her eyes, she seemed rather impassive. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat.

'Animal attacks?' she enquired. This town, dangerous? She had learnt to take news reports with a pinch of salt, because half the time they were simply cover up stories of exaggerations of bogus stories anyway. Maybe once she was done with the house, she would go dig around.

The driver nodded. 'You be careful out there, ma'am,' he repeated, eyeing up the petite girl in his back seat warily - she looked like a prime target; small, unable to fight back. Several quiet minutes passed until he slowly he pulled up at a large, warehouse-like building with large windows and a huge selection of cars both inside and outside. Nathalie smiled kindly, pulling out a wad of American dollars and handing it to him. His eyes widened - she had overpaid by fifty dollars!

'Keep it,' she said, flippantly. He looked like he was going to have some sort of seizure - quickly, he stuttered out several words of thanks, fumbling to put the money in his pocket and he attempted to put his car into drive so he could turn and drive away before she changed her mind.

She climbed out of the car and gave him a smile.

'I think I'll be alright, but thank you for your concern.'

Nathalie slammed the door shut and walked towards the warehouse as the taxi driver zipped out of the facility, but not without casting the girl a curious glance. Weird one, that one, he decided.

* * *

It didn't take long for her to buy a car after they noticed the cash that would allow for an upfront payment. It wasn't anything special - a Vauxhall Corsa - but it was new, shiny, black and looked pretty sleek. Nathalie was happy. It would do the job well, she decided. Plus, it was very close to the door.

After haphazardly pulling the car into some alleyway, she spent a good half an hour casting Undetectable Extension Charms in the boot and trying to drive on the other (wrong) side of the road. Eventually, though, she had made it to a shopping centre in the next town over, with a Target and an IKEA down the road from that.

She spent an extremely unhealthy amount of time in IKEA, buying almost any kind of furniture she could think of. The majority of it was wooden and looked like mahogany - just to remind herself of the Gryffindor common room. After managing to stuff as much as possible into her car and organising the larger things to be shipped so people would stop looking at her weirdly, she made her way to Target to get the smaller things.

She wanted red accents in her home - maybe red candles? Red rugs? A lot of her things at home were white at the moment - her new furniture was a warm, mahogany brown and red would be a lovely, bright colour to balance it out. She could hear the cogs turning in her brain when she felt her nose come into direct - and slightly painful contact - with something that felt like a chest. Somewhat soft, yet solid and powerful. She bounced back in surprise, barely noticing the flannel shirt on the man she ran into and his flustered apologies as she groaned at the sudden pain in her nose.

'I'm so sorry!' Nathalie finally heard the words that were being spoken to her.

'It's fine,' she said, although even to her it sounded a little muffled. She rubbed her nose gingerly and looked up - wow, alright, this brick wall of a bloke was pretty attractive.

'No, really,' he said, his face slightly ashamed, 'I wasn't looking where I was going-'

'It's fine,' Nathalie said more forcefully, cutting him off and shooting him a charming smile. 'I wasn't looking where I was going either.'

He coughed, unused to feeling uncomfortable around pretty women. His werewolf side usually ensured a sense of power and dominance - in front of this particular young lady, however, he felt cowed. She wasn't even particularly intimidating, standing at 5'2 at the very most in yoga pants and a red jersey and a polished stick through the bun in her hair. Regardless, he shuffled his feet slightly uncomfortable, trying to find the courage to either walk away from their awkward encounter, or start a conversation.

'What's your name?' she asked brightly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. His eyes zeroed in on a pale scar on her forehead, only just noticeable under the harsh lighting of the store. He saw it for just for a moment, but he could swear that it was shaped like a lightning bolt - how on earth would someone get a scar like _that _on their forehead of all places?

'Mason Lockwood,' he replied, almost mechanically. He half expected a surprised look on her face - the expression he usually got when the estranged brother of the Mayor returned to Mystic Falls, but then he realised they weren't even in that town right now. Instead, she shot him a white-toothed grin and stuck her hand out for him to shake.

'Nathalie Potter.'

He felt the urge to repeat the name, see what it was like coming off the tongue. It was a nice name, flowed off the tongue well. Suited her. Quite ordinary - apart from the fact that she was very pretty indeed. Instead, he cleared his throat again, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a nervous kind of way before grasping her small hand in his much larger one. It was very soft, he noted. He was still unsure as to why he hadn't walked away yet. He had been stressed lately, and for some reason, his inner wolf was feeling submissive in the presence of this woman (Mason would later claim that the reason why he didn't just walk away immediately, as he usually would have, was due to his wolf acting up). She cocked her head at him, starting to sense he was hovering for a reason and her smile tightened just a little bit. It was getting awkward.

'So,' Nathalie started, 'Are you local?'

'Um, to Mystic Falls,' he started unsurely. 'I moved away about seven years ago.'

'Oh, I just moved to Mystic Falls,' Nathalie said, 'Seems quiet. What brought you back?'

Mason looked at her, eyebrows raised. Surely she knew of the events a few days ago? The accidental death of the town's Mayor is something even the most reclusive of town residents would have heard of, or so he thought. Nathalie seemed to sense that she had said something slightly wrong, and slowly raised her eyebrows to match the challenge.

'My brother,' he said. 'The Mayor of Mystic Falls died in a fire a few days ago, along with several other residents. I'm going back to the funeral.' Mason narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Genuine surprise seemed to flash through her eyes. She shook her head, indicating that she had absolutely no idea.

'I'm sorry to hear that. I only arrived at my new house last night,' she said quietly, slightly apologetic for prying. 'I'm actually only out to get things to furnish my house. I haven't been out and about yet, really.'

'What made you move?' he enquired, although he didn't feel right asking questions. 'To Mystic Falls, of all places.' He tacked the comment onto the end of his question with a small smirk, earning a smile from her. Even with Katherine (he knew that Katherine hated when he asked questions), he felt more comfortable prying despite her immense strength than he did with this girl in front of him. Mason felt ever so slightly emasculated; she must be at least ten years his junior, dammit, and she wasn't a wolf, so why did he feel like her ranking was above his? There was no way she was over twenty years old. By the sound of her accent, she was definitely a foreigner. She was wholly British - not a single American nuance could be found in her speech, so she was most likely not a distant relative of some kind.

'Oh, a change of pace and scenery I suppose,' she said airily, before she made the decision to change the subject. 'I feel like we got off to a slightly awkward start, seeing as I almost broke my nose on your chest.' They both chuckled. Nathalie stuck her hand out towards him. 'Hi, I'm Nathalie Potter. Let's discount this completely awkward conversation we've just had, yes?'

Slowly, he grasped her tiny, slender hand in his own larger one once again and gave it a tentative, yet firm, squeeze. 'Mason Lockwood.'

She grinned at him.

'Well, Mason Lockwood, I suppose I'll be seeing you around Mystic Falls, hmm?' she said, eyes twinkling under her simple, black-framed, rectangular glasses. She put her hand on his arm, giving him a light squeeze. 'I'm sorry about your brother.'

Nathalie turned away from the handsome man, giving him one last wave before she dashed off to look for the biggest shopping cart available in the store. She needed containers and household supplies - immediately. Maybe she would get Kreacher a new pillowcase, too?

She failed to notice the bewildered werewolf she had left behind in her excitement of buying knickknacks. She ambled along to the other side of the store, whilst he shook his head in confusion. He had only come to Target to pick up a few things for his stay in Mystic Falls - like shirts for the full moon nights - he didn't expect to have an encounter quite like that.

* * *

Nathalie rested her head on her steering wheel, sighing as she did so. It had been a long day. She had spent a few more hours in Target, filling up her cart to precariously high levels and had pulled it to the other side of the carpark, in the shadows so she could chuck them into her car in peace. It was dark, now, and after realising she hadn't had anything to eat since Kreacher made her breakfast, she figured it might be a good idea to stop off for some food on her way home.

She was parked outside an establishment called the Mystic Grill which she had come across on her drive to and from her house that morning. It seemed to be the only place she would be able to get some food in this little town. It had better taste good, because she was starving and she hadn't had time to go food shopping just yet. (She was actually fairly annoyed by this fact - half of the things she had planned to do this day didn't get done, because she ran out of time. Who knew things closed so early in such a small town?)

She parked the car and got out, looking ever so slightly dishevelled. Her curls were falling out of her bun and her wand was slightly askew in her hair. Her cardigan hung off her shoulder and her leggings had started to go slightly baggy around the knees. Locking up, she walked into the place and was pleasantly surprised by what she saw.

It was fairly dark, but in a way that made the atmosphere more cosy; the place looked like it was lit by candles. Small tables and booths as well as a woodsy feel made it seem more appealing to Nathalie - she normally judged a restaurant at first glance by the customers that frequented it, although in Mystic Falls, this might not be the most accurate ways of judging the establishment as there's literally no other place for anyone to go.

Scanning the room, she spotted a booth in the far right and started weaving her way through the crowd. She managed to sit down just as someone else noticed the available seat, and grinned triumphantly in his direction as he scowled and turned away.

'Welcome to the Mystic Grill,' a kind voice said, and she looked up. Her server was a nice, harmless-looking blonde boy with a dimples and a cheeky smile. She couldn't help but grin back at him. 'I'm Matt. You new around here?'

Nathalie clicked on that she would probably be getting that question a lot. New faces were obviously a novelty in this town; putting a patient, kind smile on her face, she nodded. 'I moved into a house at the edge of the woods just yesterday,' she answered. A spark of recognition lit up in Matt's eyes.

'With the driveway off the main road?' he said. 'That place has been empty for a while. Is it nice?'

Nathalie seemed to perk up. She was very excited about her new house, and was dying to get home to decorate it. She was just about to launch into a whole tirade about the beautiful garden and kitchen area, and how she was thinking of getting a few contractors in for a few minor adjustments and extensions when she realised that it would probably bore him silly, so she settled for an excited grin and enthusiastic nod instead. She didn't notice the flush of her cheeks and gleam of her eyes, but Matt certainly did. He grinned back at her and handed her a menu wordlessly; she took it gratefully, after asking for a coke with no ice or lemon and eventually settling for a Caesar Salad with chicken and a side of garlic shrimp. Waiting for her meal, she decided it was a foolish idea not to bring a book or something to amuse herself with. Instead, she chose to look around the restaurant. There were a lot of teenagers in here. Two men were sat at the bar, nursing what appeared to be straight bourbon. One was dark-haired, extremely pale and probably rather handsome, judging by the jawline Nathalie saw peeking out from under his hair. The other was sandy-haired, slightly chubbier but just as handsome, albeit in a different way. At first glance, they didn't look like they would be friends - but who was Nathalie to judge? She was now friends with people she would never have associated with three or four years ago. Blaise and Draco, just as an example.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Matt put her plate down in front of her. She hadn't even noticed - Nathalie was getting complacent after the war. It would probably be a good idea to get her defences up again. One could never be too careful, after all.

'Enjoy your meal,' Matt said warmly, and Nathalie smiled back. She vaguely registered the feeling that she was being watched - glancing at the bar, it was the dark-haired man - he was staring at her with an intensity she had rarely seen in anyone's eyes, and for a moment, she had a feeling that she wasn't really welcome here.

Shaking the feeling off, she placed a smile on her face, focusing on Matt. 'Thank you, love,' she said. Her accent seemed to be thicker somehow, and he definitely noticed.

'You're from England, then?' it was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded anyway. 'Long way to come for a place like Mystic Falls.'

'Mm,' she mumbled. 'I actually bought a world map, and my friend threw a dart at it to see where I should go. It seemed as good of a place as any,' she replied, and he laughed heartily, shaking his head.

'Just wave me over if you need anything else,' he said, turning away as Nathalie tucked into her meal. It was alright. Nothing overly special, although it took less than ten minutes to get to her table so she couldn't expect Michelin-star meals within that kind of timeframe. Nathalie shook her head internally - she was an adult. She had to stop comparing all of her experiences and_ everything _with Hogwarts. Her reliance on that castle was still prominent, even though she had now left and it was now becoming more and more annoying the more she noticed this.

This time, she did notice when someone appeared in front of her. The dark-haired man slid into her booth, a charming smirk on his face that reminded Nathalie heavily of the signature Malfoy smirk. She raised an eyebrow.

'Damon Salvatore,' he said, sticking his hand out towards her. She had no doubt that that voice was designed to melt whichever female he was speaking to at that moment into a little puddle. It probably would have worked on her, too, if she wasn't feeling so suspicious. She couldn't remember the last time anyone approached her without some kind of motive that she wouldn't appreciate.

She took his hand. Nathalie felt a small shiver go down her spine and had the urge to reach for her wand - for what reason, she had no idea. What she did know, though, was that not everything was as it seemed with this man. She didn't feel uneasy around people for no reason. Her magic simply didn't allow it, and she trusted her instincts so much that it was almost a fault.

'Nathalie Potter,' she replied, voice perfectly even. He would have no idea that she had felt something off with him, not by her outside reaction.

'New to town?' he questioned, voice casual. Damon swung his arm over the booth, sliding back so that he looked far too relaxed where he was. Nathalie smiled.

'You're the third one to ask me that today,' she said dryly. 'But yes, I am.'

'Only the third?' he said, eyes gleaming. 'I would have expected a lovely lady like yourself to get much more attention.'

She hummed, not taking her eyes off of his. He had rather lovely eyes - very bright, and completely out of place amongst his rather dark, gothic features. 'Charming,' she said shortly, an air of amusement in her voice.

His smirk simply widened and he shifted so he was resting his elbows on the table. 'Any reason for the move?' he said. Nathalie felt like he was staring into her soul, calculating her very existence and she fought the urge to shift uncomfortably and, again, reach for her wand.

'Not particularly,' she said. 'Change of scenery, you know.'

'No reason at all?' he pressed, and she glared lightly at him. Perhaps there _was_ more going on than she thought; the memory of the taxi driver informing her of the animal attacks flashed through her mind, followed by Mason Lockwood coming back for the funeral of the Mayor and other town residents. It seemed likea lot of activity for what appeared to be a quiet, picturesque town. She opened her mouth to reply when she was interrupted by his sandy-haired companion.

'Damon!' he snapped, glaring at his friend before he turned to Nathalie apologetically. 'I'm sorry about him, he tends to bother anyone he finds remotely attractive.'

Nathalie smiled at him. She got quite a nice feeling from this man, actually. Maybe it was the genuine warmth in his eyes that put her at ease, but she waved off his apology anyway. 'It's alright,' she said as she reached to pick up her plate. 'I was just heading home anyway.'

It was a pretty pathetic lie, but she waved Matt over who, like Damon's friend, glared at him before looking at Nathalie expectantly. 'Could I please get this doggy bagged? And fix up a Mystic Burger for me to go as well, please. Just the burger, though,' she said. Matt opened his mouth to object, glancing at Damon (who had his hands up defensively, his face a picture of innocence) but she pushed her plate more forcefully towards him, so he did as she asked and walked away.

'I'm Alaric,' Damon's friend said, holding his hand out to her. 'Alaric Saltzman.'

'Nathalie Potter,' she smiled, shaking his hand. 'Lovely to meet you.'

'Are you attending the school?' he asked. Nathalie looked young for her age; maybe it was due to her short stature, but even at nineteen she looked like she should be in school. 'I'm the History teacher there.'

Nathalie shook her head. 'I graduated a couple of years ago,' she said, and his eyebrows raised in surprise. 'You wouldn't want me in your class anyway, I'm awful at History.'

'Alright,' Alaric said. He wasn't sure what to say to that. He had fully been expecting to get a new student in his class after noticing her in her little booth.

It was slightly awkward until Matt came back a few minutes later with her meal as well as her requested burger in a separate bag.

'Now, are you feeding someone else, or are you just greedy?' Damon asked, his tone sarcastic. Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him, taking the bags more forcefully than she probably should have. 'Wouldn't you like to know?' she said calmly. She pulled a hundred dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it to Matt, who stared at it for just a moment. 'Keep it,' she said. 'Make sure you keep all of the tip to yourself, though.' She winked at him, as his jaw visibly dropped open.

She picked up her keys from the table and cast one last smile at Alaric and Matt before walking away, straight out the door. All three men noticed that she walked with a confident yet sashay of the hips, which made it difficult for them to look away.

Damon cocked his head and made a move to get up, when Alaric pushed him back down into the seat with a glare. He opened his mouth to protest, but Alaric beat him to it.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' he berated. 'You can't just walk into a bar and interrogate teenage girls about their lives, Damon!'

'Am I not right to be curious?' he snapped in reply. 'Everyone who has come into this town has done something or other to make life difficult for us, and you expect me not to be suspicious of someone who just waltzes in because she feels like it? Mystic Falls is not a town that gets new residents regularly, in case you haven't noticed. Especially hot English ones. And _what_ teenage girl can afford to give an eighty dollar tip like it's nothing?'

'In case you've forgotten, Damon, the person who started it all was _you,_' Alaric sniped. 'Mind your own business.' Damon stared daggers into his friend, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to the doorway and looked at the spot that Nathalie Potter had just walked out of, curious about the newest addition to Mystic Falls.

* * *

Nathalie slammed the passenger side door after grabbing her food from the seat. She ambled up the few steps to her front door, fumbling with her (stupid) keys for a few minutes before she finally managed to jam the right one into the lock.

'Kreacher!' she said as she walked into the kitchen, and he appeared with a _crack!_.

'Mistress?' he croaked, and she handed him the burger. He grinned at her somewhat crookedly, grateful that she had brought him dinner.

'Could you please magic the goods from my car into the house at some point?' she asked kindly, and he nodded rapidly. 'No rush, though. I can't be bothered to organise everything just yet.'

'Kreacher will do it now, Mistress!' he said, happy to be of help. She laughed.

'Well, why don't you have some dinner first? And I need a list of things you would like for your cellar, too,' she added thoughtfully, and he cocked his head at her in confusion. 'Well,' she started, sensing his wordless question, 'I said you could have the cellar to do whatever you want with. Do you want anything for it? Blankets, a cupboard, a bed?'

Kreacher's jaw dropped open. 'A b-b-bed?' he stuttered. Even at Nathalie's crappy little flat in Devon, he slept in the cupboard. She hadn't ever offered him a bed before. She nodded at him, smiling.

'You can't exactly just pop to the shops, can you?' she laughed, thinking of what the reaction to Kreacher would be if he decided to go to Target. 'If you think of anything you want, I'll go get it for you. I got you a new pillowcase as well. It's green-'

She was cut off by the feeling of being very suddenly winded. The elf had launched himself at his Mistress, tackling her around the waist in his excitement. Fat tears were rolling down his face, wetting Nathalie's shirt and he was sniffling loudly. 'Mistress is too kind to Kreacher!' he wailed. 'A _bed!_ Mistress is offering Kreacher his own bed!'

Sighing slightly, Nathalie felt both warmed and saddened by Kreacher's extremely grateful reaction. It didn't sit right with her that house elves were so grateful for things she deemed as every day essentials. Nathalie understood that he wanted to work, so she let him, but she felt bad that the thought of giving him a bed hadn't occurred to her before just because he was totally content sleeping under the sink. It amazed her that, despite the way he treated her initially, his loyalty to her now was unparalleled to anything else just because she was kind to him.

She patted his head affectionately, and let him wail. She was glad she moved, even with the interesting encounters she'd had throughout the day. She was building a home not just for herself, but for Kreacher as well. After uprooting him from Grimmauld Place, she felt obligated to make sure he was settled again because he was definitely getting old now.

Maybe she would just duplicate the bed she got for the spare room, she thought. Another day out furniture shopping seemed tedious.

After a little while, she peeled him off of her and, together, they went and sat on the back porch, looking into the forest. She transfigured a couple of sticks into a cushions and built a small pillow fort for herself and Kreacher to sit on with their food. Halfway through the meal, Camarin appeared, her fur seeming to be extra matted and her paws were ever so slightly muddy, a dead mouse clamped between her teeth (Lovely, Nathalie had said).

The three companions sat on the back porch for a while, simply relaxing and getting used to the new surroundings. Nathalie laid back and stared into the sky, tracing the Sirius constellation with her finger.

To her surprise, Nathalie realised that she felt content for the first time in a long while - even though she was so far from home.

* * *

_Merry Christmas! :)_

_The reception I've had from this story has been amazing. 141 follows in just over 1000 views is pretty great, and 89 favourites. So thank you very much, all of you! :D_

_My favourites are reviews, though._

_So, seeing as it's Christmas, maybe you could leave me one. ;D_

_They are completely motivational, after all!_


	3. Those of Dirty Blood

**rewrite date: 1st of april, 2016****  
****view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

If you fancy Kol Mikaelson as much as I do, then check out 'Fire in the Water: Kindling Fire' by Silhouettes of Starlight. It needs more readers and it's fabulous. xo

* * *

Stumbling through the forest, Caroline felt desperately confused. Her head was pounding, and her gums ached. Why did her gums, of all places, ache? One second she was with Tyler in the car, next second she was in a hospital bed being smothered by her so-called 'best friend' (who called herself Katherine) and now she was stumbling through the forest sucking on a bag of O negative. It was easy enough getting out of the hospital because the nurse did whatever she said - as soon as she walked out of the hospital, though, it was all too much and somehow, she ended up here. Why on earth would Elena feel the need to kill her? Surely their competitiveness didn't warrant murder. _I'm not that much of a bitch, am I?_ Caroline thought.

She didn't even register the various scrapes and bruises she was collecting, considering they were healing almost as soon as she got them or the fact that her bag was constantly getting caught in the branches. Instead, she kept on going – where, she had absolutely no idea; she just wanted the pain to stop and to be able to _focus_ on something. _Anything_. Elena's face flashed before her eyes, and anger built deep in her belly. _She killed me,_ Caroline thought. _She killed me!_

Without warning, the most wonderful scent hit her nostrils which halted her train of thought most efficiently. She needed it. It made her _hungry_. She needed to consume it. For some reason, she knew that her survival depended on inhaling whatever that wonderful smell was. Making a sharp left, she staggered towards it, speeding up and going as fast as her tired, aching legs would allow. She thought of nothing but the smell and, soon enough, she came to a break in the treeline. She could see a house nearby, with lights gleaming in the darkness and God, something in there smelled _amazing_.

She hovered at the treeline, staring at the house. Caroline knew this wasn't normal, that she shouldn't be so desperate to get to whatever was in that house (she hadn't even felt this anxious about getting her hands on something when she found that perfect dress for the Homecoming dance last year), but she didn't care. She wanted it, _so_ badly, and the rational part of her brain knew it would be wrong to force her way into someone's home no matter what the reason was. The newly present, incredibly irrational side of herself however seemed to overpower her morals and took over her self control. It won.

Caroline took a step forward. And another one, and another one – she was far enough out of the treeline to see everything clearly, but she still remained hidden in the shadows.

She observed the figure that appeared from the doorway – it looked like she was heading towards a large Greenhouse to Caroline's right. She stepped further back into the darkness cautiously, realising with a small pang of fear that she wished, more than anything, to eat the figure because that person is what smelled so delicious. That fear was brief; it was quickly squashed by the overwhelming need to attack and, without a second thought, she did exactly that. The muscles in her calves tensed only for a moment before she leaped towards the figure; her legs travelled faster than they ever had before and in moments she was only feet away from her target.

* * *

Nathalie stared down at the rigid figure lay before her, head tilted in thought. She was pretty, blonde and would appear perfectly harmless and lovely if she didn't try to kill her the night before. Yet, the protective barriers hadn't even alerted her of someone on her property. They were designed to keep those with ill-intentions out; this means that, even though this girl attacked her, she didn't enter the property with the intention of doing so. She sighed. What a conundrum.

'Right,' she started, raising an eyebrow. 'I'm going to release you. If you attack me again, I'll stick you right back into this state until you've calmed down. Is that clear?'

She waited a moment for a response, before she rolled her eyes at herself. 'Right,' she muttered. 'I did a body-bind on you. You can't answer. Clever Nathalie.'

The girl's eyes darted back and forth desperately, and an idea struck the brunette. 'Move your eyes up and down if you understand.'

The girl did so, and Nathalie was appeased. She waved her hand in the girl's direction, who gasped and bolted upright at an unnatural speed. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Nathalie.

'Hey there,' Nathalie said, a crooked grin on her face.

'Where am I?' she gasped in response, fear in her eyes. 'Who are you?' She took in her surroundings; a large living room with a coal fireplace and plush, red, overstuffed sofas. She had been placed on a soft, dark brown fur rug that took up the middle of the room quite nicely. Her surroundings screamed someone's home; she wasn't anywhere overly scary. Like a dungeon, or something.

'You're in my house,' Nathalie confirmed. 'I had to invite you in; I imagine that you're a vampire?'

'What?' she stuttered. Who was this girl? How did she know? Is _that_ what she was? Her accent clearly meant that she wasn't from around here, and Caroline had never seen her before. She knew everyone in this town, and she'd never seen this girl before. Is she even right? Caroline had absolutely no idea.

'A new one?' It sounded more like a statement than a question, but Nathalie nodded to herself anyway and tilted her head once again. Her eyes held absolutely no fear; instead, a slightly morbid curiosity shone through her emerald-green eyes. She sat down on the rug next to the blonde girl, just a few feet away so she would have a _little_ time to react if the girl lost control again. 'I'm Nathalie.'

'Caroline.' The response was automatic.

'Nice to meet you,' Nathalie said, her crooked grin getting bigger. 'Are you alright?'

Caroline pondered for a moment. She had no idea. By God, she was hungry - and she ached - but was she okay? Probably not. She was probably going mad.

'I don't know,' she said. It wasn't an untruthful answer; in fact, it was entirely true.

'Alright,' Nathalie smiled. 'Well, what do you remember?'

She closed her eyes. It was at that moment that she realised she had a pounding headache. Thoughts came rushing back to her mind - memories she had previously had absolutely no recollection of. Damon's face. Elena. Katherine? The hospital. Finding the blood. Drinking the blood. _Enjoying_ the blood.

She couldn't help the tears that formed, and she shut her eyes, desperately trying to push them back but it was a fruitless effort. Within seconds, streams of what seemed to be endless tears were flowing down her face.

'Oh, love,' Nathalie said sympathetically, and Caroline looked at her. 'Kreacher!'

A loud crack echoed through the room, and Caroline shrieked in fright, shuffling back until she hit the wall trying to get away from the creature that popped out of thin air.

'Mistress,' he croaked, looking at the fearful blonde girl disdainfully.

'Fetch our guest here a handkerchief, please, and perhaps something to eat. I think there's some blood-pops in the loft,' Nathalie ordered, although her voice was kind. Kreacher grumbled under his breath, disliking the fact that he had to wait on someone else and disappeared with a crack.

'What is that?' Caroline breathed. The shock of seeing Kreacher appeared to have stemmed the flow of tears.

'A house-elf,' Nathalie said cheerfully. 'Lovely creatures. Absolutely nothing in the world more loyal than a house-elf.'

Kreacher reappeared next to Caroline, who shrieked again. He dropped a red handkerchief in front of her wordlessly, disappearing once more with a resounding _crack!_.

Cautiously, she picked up the handkerchief and dabbed at her face. She had been shocked into silence - so many emotions and questions were running through her body, she had no idea where to even begin.

'When were you turned?' Nathalie asked. Caroline couldn't understand why she was being so understanding, and so _calm_ about everything - surely a normal, human reaction would be to run far away into the hills, screaming bloody murder the whole time. It didn't make any sense that this girl was so nonchalant.

'Last night, I think,' she whispered.

Nathalie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She had figured out that this was a new vampire - but _that_ new? 'No wonder you tried to eat me yesterday,' she joked, her tone light.

'I'm sorry,' Caroline sputtered. She truly didn't mean to attack the girl, but she just couldn't help herself. It was with some amazement and a considerable amount of mental strain and even physical pain that Caroline was managing to hold herself together now.

Nathalie waved her hands. 'Not to worry,' she said, chuckling. 'I know you didn't mean to. You wouldn't even be able to get onto the property if you meant to hurt me. Camarin would have been very unhappy with you too.'

'Camarin?' Caroline questioned.

As if on cue, a large, matted white cat with black spots and a plumed tail stepped into the room. Her walk was almost regal, her tail raised high in the air whilst taking big steps and her gaze was locked onto the vampire who was currently curled up into a ball against the wall. It unnerved her; it was calculating, and seemed to look right into her soul. It was definitely not an expression normally found on the face of a cat.

'Camarin is my kneazle,' Nathalie said, waving towards the animal. 'They're very intelligent creatures, very good at detecting those with malicious intentions.'

'Oh,' Caroline said quietly. She wasn't too sure what else she _could_ say. She was so overwhelmed; her thoughts had all mashed together into one and it was quiet for a couple of minutes before one question in particular come to mind. 'Um. Why aren't you scared of me?'

Nathalie's brows furrowed at the fear in Caroline's tone and she tilted her head. 'Should I be?'

'I mean, I'm a _vampire_,' Caroline winced as she said the words out loud for the first time. 'And you're just a regular human-'

Nathalie snickered quietly. A regular human? If casting a full body bind curse is classed as being a _regular human_ in this town, maybe she should give up on the house now and just find somewhere else to go immediately. 'Am I?'

Caroline's eyes widened. 'You're not?' she asked, shocked. Then she remembered how she'd spent the night locked in one position and was only released when Nathalie waved her hand at her. 'You're not! What are you?'

Nathalie hummed. 'I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you what I am,' she paused for a moment. 'I suppose it would be alright, seeing as you're a vampire and everything.'

'What do you mean you're not allowed to tell me?' Caroline questioned, tearing her eyes away from the _kneazle_.

'My people have certain rules - laws - that I have to follow,' Nathalie shrugged. 'I don't see any harm in telling you, though. As long as you don't tell everyone.'

Caroline said nothing, choosing to continue inspecting the girl in front of her carefully. Caroline normally wouldn't like this girl very much, she reckoned. Even though she was being incredibly kind. Nathalie was very pretty; pretty enough to make any girl envious of her seemingly effortless beauty and charm. And her eyes – they were big, framed with thick, dark lashes and a bright, emerald green that Caroline had never seen before. They looked almost unnatural, and she felt the envy creep up her spine. She normally liked her bright baby blues, but Nathalie's eyes made hers look.. well, boring. And she didn't like that.

'I'm a witch,' she finished, a small smile on her face.

Caroline's eyes widened. 'No.. you can't be - I know a witch.' Bonnie had never cast a spell like the one she was under earlier on. She remembered how Nathalie initially cast it, which wasn't with her bare hands. 'She doesn't use a stick to cast spells or use magic.'

'A _stick_?' Nathalie said, affronted. 'I'll have you know that this is a wand and it is my pride and joy, thank you very much.'

'But I know a witch,' Caroline repeated.

'A Wiccan witch?' Nathalie said. She leaned forward, as if extremely interested in what Caroline was saying. 'That's very interesting. I've never met a Wiccan witch before. Many people in my world say that the magic they practice is utter codswallop.'

'There's more than one kind?' Her head was swimming. So many new things and so much more knowledge in such a small time. She rubbed her temples in a futile attempt of pushing the thoughts away. New memories hadn't stopped attacking her the entire time she had been in the house, and she didn't want to think about them. She wanted to think about what this girl was telling her. There's more than one kind of witch.

A _crack!_ echoed through the room and, once again, Caroline shrieked. Kreacher had returned with a silver tray carrying a plate with a full English breakfast fry-up (fried eggs, buttered toast, bacon, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, sausages, baked beans, black pudding and hash browns) and a few blood-red lollies that smelled very appealing to her. He held out the tray towards her, not saying a word or making eye contact. Tentatively, she reached out and took the tray from him. It was obvious that he had put a fair amount of effort into her food, although she was unsure as to why Kreacher had decided to bring her breakfast in the evening. 'Thank you,' she said anyway, a small smile on her face. Kreacher looked at her then, eyeing her up carefully. He grunted in response before disappearing with another _crack!_.

Nathalie laughed. 'He likes you.'

Caroline turned to her, slightly surprised. She had gotten the vibe that he was actually very unhappy with her presence, but Nathalie's mirth simply continued. She figured it would be better not to ask; instead, to appease her gnawing hunger and aching gums, she delved into her meal. It took her but a few minutes to devour half of her meal and, to her surprise, it helped a little. She relaxed slightly, finishing it off. Her favourite was the black pudding ('It's made with pigs blood,' Nathalie had said, much to Caroline's surprise). The room was quiet except for the sounds of her eating. Nathalie mostly stayed quiet the entire time. Surprisingly, the atmosphere was far from awkward - Caroline was the type that usually felt the need to fill up every moment of silence with chatter, but she didn't feel that with Nathalie. Instead of making conversation, the brunette had stood up and walked to a dark mahogany bookshelf against the wall of the room and pulled out three books, before returning to her spot on the carpet and flicking through the titles and keeping them open on certain pages.

Caroline finished the breakfast, before picking up one of the red lollies cautiously. 'Um,' she started, and Nathalie looked up.

'Blood lollipops!' she said happily. 'One of my friends gave them to me last Halloween. They're not my taste, but maybe you'll like them.'

'Blood lollipops,' Caroline repeated, eyes wide. What kind of morbid confectioner thinks of blood lollipops?

'Mmm,' Nathalie grinned. 'There's a shop called Honeydukes in England that sells all sorts of sweets. Try it.'

She eyed the lolly for another few moments, slowly unwrapping it. Caroline gave it an apprehensive lick, before her eyes lit up. It tasted wonderful. Sticking the lolly in her mouth, she groaned slightly. Her eyes, all of a sudden, felt sensitive. Warm. Reaching up, she touched the skin around her eyes and gasped, almost dropping the lolly from her mouth.

'Oh wow,' Nathalie breathed, inching slightly closer to Caroline and inspecting her face. 'I've never seen a vampire's true face before. You're quite terrifying, you know.'

Caroline's eyes stayed wide as she took in what Nathalie said. In the timespan of about forty-eight hours, her entire life had flipped upside-down. She was now a vampire who craved blood above everything else, and she was in a house with a complete stranger who had _blood lollipops_ in her attic and thought she was the most fascinating thing in the world.

What on earth had her life come to?

'Your clothes are filthy,' Nathalie said, looking at Caroline. 'Let's get you changed!'

Nathalie hopped up from her place on the floor and reached her hand out to Caroline. She eyed it, before grabbing it tentatively.

The girls smiled at each other, and Caroline felt the closest to alright since she had left that hospital.

* * *

'I have a carnival to get to,' Caroline laughed slightly as Nathalie adjusted her scarf, patting it down. She still wasn't sure why she was being so nice.

'Are you sure you'll be alright?' Nathalie asked, her brows creased in concern. It probably wasn't safe for a new vampire to go into a crowd that large, but Caroline was doing okay restraining herself around Nathalie and she knew she smelled more appealing than the average human being.

Caroline laughed and nodded.

'I'll be fine. I just need to do something to feel a little bit normal, you know?'

Nathalie hummed, eyeing up Caroline but she nodded anyway. 'Alright,' she said, before she pulled Caroline's phone off the table and started punching in numbers. She handed it back to the girl, who pocketed it. 'Give me a call if anything happens, alright? If you need anything.'

'Why are you being so nice to me?' she asked. Her tone was casual, light, inquisitive - but her eyes were slightly suspicious.

'Well, if you asked to become a vampire then you wouldn't be stumbling around my back garden, all confused, trying to eat me,' Nathalie chucked. 'You looked like you could use some help.'

It was quiet whilst Caroline took a moment to digest those words. A few seconds later, she broke into a face-splitting grin and grabbed Nathalie in a bone-crushing hug; she squeaked in surprise.

'Thank you,' she said softly.

Pulling away, Nathalie smiled. 'Kreacher!'

A loud _crack!_ echoed through the room, and Caroline winced at the harshness of the sound against her newly amplified hearing. The grumpy old elf had a sour expression on his face, although anyone familiar with him would be able to see the softer look in his eyes every time he looked at his master. Nevertheless, he was grumbling at the young vampire before him, who was trying very hard not to be offended by his cold demeanour.

'Could you take Caroline to the carnival, please? Make sure you're not seen by anyone, and come straight home after.'

'As you wish, Mistress. Anything for Mistress,' Kreacher said, and his gaze turned to Caroline disdainfully. 'Even if Kreacher has to serve those of dirty blood-'

'Enough, Kreacher.' Nathalie said firmly, casting an apologetic look at the young vampire. 'Don't be rude in front of our guest.'

'Yes, Mistress,' he muttered, before holding his hand out towards Caroline. She looked at it distrustfully, looking at Nathalie for reassurance.

'You'll be alright,' Nathalie said cheerfully. 'It's quicker than running, and Kreacher is really very good. Make sure you call if anything happens though, alright?'

Caroline nodded as she slowly reached out to take Kreacher's hand. Getting impatient, he grabbed her wrist - eliciting a yelp of surprise from her - and disappeared with a loud _crack!_, taking the vampire with him.

Nathalie stood there for a moment, contemplating the events that had just taken place in her home. She still didn't understand why she felt a need to help the girl - perhaps it was just her hero complex kicking in, but she did seem quite nice (except for the 'I'm going to drain your body dry of blood' incident) and rather confused about her situation. It seemed to Nathalie that Caroline was a mere victim of circumstance, and Caroline's appearance had only confirmed her suspicions that this town wasn't so idyllic after all. Clearly there must be more than one vampire if she had been turned so recently. Shrugging, she apparated with a small _pop_! Into her attic, having completely forgotten why she went outside in the first place. She picked up the book she had discarded on the desk earlier - _Transfiguration for the Ambitious Mind_ by Wesley Diggerton - and picked up where she left off.

_'Perhaps the most ambitious and complex form of transfiguration would involve the change of humans. Whilst a temporary change into an object or animal is usually achievable for a decently advanced wizard, the process of becoming Animagi is significantly more difficult and should not be attempted alone or by the faint-hearted. There are some specific steps required -'_

* * *

_Crack!_

Caroline registered the feeling of bile rising in her throat. For a few moments she felt like she was being squeezed through a tube, and the sensation was definitely not a pleasant one or one she would like to experience again any time soon. She blinked and swallowed, trying to push the feeling back and shuddered when it lingered for just a moment longer. In the distance, she could see the carnival in full swing and she felt a hint of excitement at seeing Matt, as well as a twinge of nervousness at the state the event must be in if Elena and Bonnie had planned it. Something must be wrong, she just knew it. Nobody ever planned events right in this town.

Looking down, she realised she still had a hold of the little elf's hand. He still didn't look happy to be with her, but she smiled at him anyway. 'Thank you,' she said, her voice warm.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and ignored the feeling of appreciation rising in his chest that came every time someone thanked him for his efforts. It seemed odd to him that a filthy creature like a vampire would be kind to him.

'Miss is too kind,' he grumbled, almost as a reaction to when people thank him. 'Kreacher's Mistress seems to like you, Miss, even with your dirty blood.'

Despite delivering an insult in possibly the most (forcibly) polite manner in history, it was still an insult and he was very surprised when she let out a laugh. 'I like her too,' she grinned. 'And I like you, Kreacher. You're funny. Even if you do look like a shrivelled old prune.'

Kreacher glared. 'Goodbye, Miss,' he said moodily. 'Mistress is expecting Kreacher home.'

Once again, he disappeared. Caroline shook her head amusedly before turning towards the carnival.

This could turn out interesting.

* * *

_The most important part when attempting to transfigure oneself into an animal is to clear the mind entirely. This is so that the mind of the animal that best reflects the soul of that wizard can find their place in the conscious mind, and it no longer exists purely subconsciously. Some parties argue that this is the most difficult step in Animagi training – it is rare that someone who can control their mind so well would also possess the required amount of dedication and skill in transfiguration necessary to complete the transformation successfully. It should be noted that those who can perform Legilimency and/or Occlumency may have more success in this step than one who has not attempted either magicks._

'Mistress is trying again?' Kreacher said, eyes narrowed at Nathalie. She was stood in the middle of her attic, wearing her most comfortable slouchy clothes (a baggy white t-shirt with holes everywhere and a pair of running leggings), stretching out various muscles and cracking her knuckles in preparation for what she was, once again, attempting to do.

'Yes, Kreacher, and you're going to be here to make sure nothing goes wrong!'

Nathalie took a deep breath, standing completely still and blocking out everything from her mind. Slowly, she began to clear it, the same way Professor Snape taught her to do back in fifth year. Even now, it was difficult. She supposed a mind like hers would never find it easy to be completely emptied and shut down; eventually, though, it worked.

_The second step is for the person to tap into their inner magic. This requires the person to locate their magical core - not physically, of course, but the caster needs to be able to take a hold of this magic in order to complete the transformation. In this step, Wizards who are familiar with wandless magic may find it easier as it requires the ability to harness the power found within each wizard without something to channel it - most commonly, a wand. There has been some debate between experts of Transfiguration as to whether young wizards with no magical training would find ease in this step, as the only way they know how to do magic is by taking power directly from the core of their being and channelling it through the mind. Once the wizard has found their inner magic, they need to grasp it - allow for it to consume them, until it takes hold of every fibre of their being, both inside and outside. The success of this step can be determined by an outsider - the wizard who has harnessed their inner power to this level will show physical signs of doing so._

She felt very warm. Every cell of her body was glowing and it felt like a warm presence had fallen into every nook, cranny and pore of her being. Distantly, she registered a faint, shocked, 'Mistress!' and couldn't help but grin slightly at her success. She had reached and surpassed this step in the past, however - Nathalie learned how to take control of her inner power several months prior, so she didn't let herself celebrate this small victory just yet even though, no matter how many times she did it, it was still very difficult.

_The third step is for the wizard to locate the animal within their minds. This is where the importance of the first step truly shines through. The mind is an incredibly complex arena, and shouldn't be delved into too deeply without extreme caution. They must dig through their own subconscious to find their soul animal. This is made more difficult by tenfold as wizards can never truly know what their animal is until after their first full, successful transformation - whilst experts have come up with various experiments and theories as to how to discover this within a wizard by delving into the deepest crevices of the mind (some experiments have thus far proved to be fairly successful), the wizard can only truly know through their own trial and error. Those who are not committed to becoming an Animagus will always fail at this step. The art of delving through the mind is a test of willpower; those who do not want to reach the final result desperately enough will succumb to the temptation of sifting through their own memories. Barnaby Crud, a man who attempted Animagi training in 1742, spent so long sifting through his memories that he eventually passed away of dehydration. This is another reason why the wizard attempting an Animagus transformation needs to have someone else present at all times, so if they end up distracted then they won't be stuck in that state until their death._

Taking another deep breath, Nathalie began to dig. She had also surpassed this step - she was so close. She knew she had come a long way since she began trying to become an Animagus, having failed at the last step for several months - today, though, she was determined to get it right. A year and a half had gone into this, and by Merlin if she wasn't successful soon then she may just drive herself insane.

It took another few minutes of passing by both lovely and painful memories that she finally located the presence. It was becoming much easier now - the first few times took several hours for Nathalie to locate the animal in her head, to the point where, when she finally snapped out of it, Kreacher was standing their with a manic look in his eyes. He had a frying pan in his bony hands, ready to smack her back into the real world if she stayed unresponsive for more than twelve hours. Without hesitation, she grabbed it - held the struggling presence in one place in her head, blocking it off so it couldn't escape.

_This step requires the wizard to force the animal into submission. This is the step where no guide can be written. This is a battle of the mind - the stronger mind will be able to force the weaker one to do it's bidding. Wizards should not fear, however; even if they lose the fight, there have been no recorded cases where the animal has taken control over the wizard for an extended period of time. The animal retains the brain function of an animal - they will not be able to function in the body of a human and will retreat back into the mind no matter what the outcome of the fight is. A loss on the wizard's part, however, means that they will not be able to transfigure into said creature._

Nathalie fought desperately to force the animal into submission. She had been successful several times, but quite frankly, this part of the process never failed to piss her off. She noted that each time she had to fight the presence, the time she spent doing it got shorter. It took almost no time for her to erect barriers around the creature, similar to the ones she would build whilst practicing Occlumency, forcing it still. She built chains around it, locking it down and holding it there until it no longer struggled against her grasp. It felt like it was looking at her, listening for a command and, slowly, she released the chains that held it.

_When submissive, the creature will look at its master for guidance. The wizard needs to remember that this creature is the extension of their soul; it is causing no damage or harm to the creature if they are forced into submission. This step is the one that requires skill in transfiguration. Allow for the creature to take over; when the wizard establishes himself as the leader of the domain, they are in no danger of the creature taking over their minds forcibly. Instead, allow for that mind to flow into your own, taking as much space as it requires. Whilst it does this, focus more energy from the magical core around the body. A full-body transfiguration is only achievable when a sufficient amount of magic surrounds the user and allows for the creature to create their physical form out of the wizard's own. Ensure that the barrier of magic is also evenly distributed. A concentrated amount of magic in one area may allow for transfiguration in one area, and diluted magic can cause for no transfiguration or even deformed transformations to take place. Wizards should not be alarmed if only certain parts of their body change form during this process, especially before they master it._

And this is where the hard work begins. Nathalie grasped her inner magic, letting it flow over her like a warm body of water and tried to urge the creature to expand its horizons and grow. Every time she had tried this in the past, it had lead to her growing some kind of talon, maybe a beak or dropping a large feather here and there. She was going to do it though, this time. This time.

* * *

_'Hello?'_

'I didn't know who else to call,' Caroline choked.

_'Caroline? What happened?'_

'I didn't mean to,' she said, her voice breaking as she forced back her sobs.

_'Are you still at the carnival?'_

'Yes. I didn't mean to,' she repeated. 'I didn't mean to, Nathalie! I don't know what to do,'

_'Alright. I'm on my way.'_

Caroline pocketed her phone, breathing deeply. She looked up; Damon was walking towards her. She felt something that felt almost like shame flood through her and she looked down, trying to avoid his eyes.

'He's dead. I killed him,' she said, and it was saying it out loud that brought on a feeling akin to a panic attack. 'What's wrong with me?'

'Hey,' Damon said softly, rubbing her arm. 'I can help you.'

'You can?' she looked at him hopefully, desperately. She knew in her mind that she shouldn't trust him, that Nathalie was on her way and that Nathalie might be able to help her just like she did earlier; but she needed help, and Damon was offering it.

'Yeah, I have to,' he confirmed, a genuine smile on his face.

'What are you gonna do?'

'The only thing I can do,' he said, brushing her hair out of her face. 'I'm gonna kill you.'

She had never felt dread wash over her that quickly in her life. 'Please don't!' she begged him, jumping to her feet. 'I don't want to die!'

'Yeah, but you're already dead.'

'No!' she tried to yell, but her voice seemed to croak instead. 'I'm not. Don't say that, okay? Just help me!'

'Okay,' he started, raising his hands in surrender.

'Okay? Please, please,' she begged him, glancing fearfully at the stake in his hand.

'Okay,' he pulled her into an embrace, slowly lifting his weapon into the air. 'It's the only way.'

It happened quickly; the stake seemed to fly out of his hands of it's own accord, whilst he was tackled by Stefan, pushing the dark-haired brother away from the baby vampire. 'Stefan!' he growled, as he took his place between Damon and Caroline.

Elena had also taken her place between the two. 'No!' Caroline yelled, pushing her away. 'Get away from me! You killed me!'

'No, no, no, no Caroline!' Elena said, startled and putting her hands in front of her defensively. 'That wasn't me, you know that. That was Katherine.'

'No!' Caroline's panic was steadily growing. She could feel the blood rushing to her eyes. 'Why did she look like you? Why, why did she do this to me?' Caroline wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to keep herself together.

'Stefan, we need to get her inside,' Elena said, noticing the blood around her mouth and her bloodshot eyes.

Stefan started making his way to the blonde, not once taking his eyes off his brother. 'It's okay, Caroline. Come with me.'

'She will die, Stefan,' Damon stated blankly, his face expressionless. 'It's only a matter of time.'

'Yeah, maybe so, but it's not gonna happen tonight,' he glared in response.

'Oh yeah it is,' Damon smirked. In a flash, he was inches away from stabbing someone in the chest with the stake; that someone turned out to be Elena who was standing in front of Caroline protectively, fear shining in her eyes despite the defiant look on her face.

'Damon, she's my friend,' she said stubbornly, refusing to budge as Damon hesitated in his attack. A few seconds passed and he dropped his arm, glaring at them all.

'Whatever happens, it's on you,' he hissed.

Elena, Stefan and Caroline turned to walk away, turning directly into Bonnie's line of sight.

'Caroline?' she breathed, disbelief laced in her voice as she noticed the blood-soaked face of her best friend staring back at her sadly.

'It's okay,' Stefan said, trying to reassure them all. 'Come on.'

'No, you're not. You can't be,' Bonnie whispered, rushing over and grabbing Caroline's arm tightly. She shuddered at the cold feeling of death that rushed through her body, and horror clouded her expression.

'Bonnie?' Caroline said softly, slowly reaching out towards her best friend who flinched and looked at the body behind them.

'Oh, god,' she gasped, noticing the carnival worker she had been getting friendly with not half an hour previous lying dead in a pool of his own blood, eyes staring blankly into the night sky.

Elena pushed Caroline into Stefan, urging them to walk away as she turned to comfort the witch, feeling desperately confused and scared about what had just happened.

Neither teenager noticed a dark-haired, pale girl slip out of the shadows and follow the two vampires into the building.

* * *

'She hates me,' Caroline sobbed, rubbing water on her cheeks to wash any of the evidence away. 'Bonnie hates me.'

'No, she's just in shock,' Stefan tried to reassure her, rubbing away blood from her face as well. 'We all are.'

'And what about Matt?' she cried, her emotions once again overwhelming her delicate state of mind.

Stefan hushed her gently. 'One thing at a time. Let's get this blood cleaned off. Come on.'

'I'm a murderer,' she stuttered. 'I'm a monster!'

'Your emotions are heightened right now,' he said, rubbing the tissue on the corner of her mouth. 'It's part of the transformation. It's completely normal, I promise you, okay?'

She tried desperately to draw in a breath, looking at her reflection. All she could see were her eyes changing, once again, and her panic reached new heights. 'Why does this keep happening to my face!?' she screeched, her voice breaking. 'It's hideous- why-'

'Look at me, look at me!' Stefan's voice was raised as he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her so that she would look at him. 'Caroline, look at me. Look at my face. Look at my face!' His features changed, blood rushing to his eyes so that his face matched hers. 'You see that? When you feel the blood rushing, you tell yourself that you're going to get through it, that you're strong enough.'

Caroline was shaking her head, the flow of tears not once stopping.

'Yes, yes, no matter how good it feels to give yourself over to it, you bury it. Watch me, watch me,' he continued, shaking her a little more as she shook her head at him. His features changed back into his normal face. 'It's the only way you're gonna survive.'

She took a few deep, calming breaths - the tingle in her eyes began to recede somewhat, and the extra oxygen helped calm her frantic mind.

'That's good,' Stefan was quick to reassure her with exactly what she needed to hear. She felt a new sense of appreciation for the handsome vampire in that moment, and she calmed further.

'Why did Katherine do this to me?' she whispered, looking up at him.

He looked at her sadly. 'I don't know. I wish I did.' His eyes widened slightly when she continued to cry. 'Hey. I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you. Come here.' He pulled her into a hug and she rested her head against the crook of his elbow, trying to take a few deep breaths. Both of their heads snapped up in alarm when they heard a gentle knock on the door.

'Caroline?' a soft, feminine voice reached their ears. Stefan immediately went on alert, not recognising it. Caroline on the other hand sped towards the door, yanking it open and tackling the little figure which stood there.

'Bloody hell!' Nathalie gasped, the wind knocked out of her completely. Caroline didn't let go. She sobbed into her shoulder as Nathalie wrapped her arms around the blonde tightly. Stefan couldn't help but be amused at the sight; the brunette seemed only to be about 5'1/5'2, whereas the blonde stood at a good 5'7. Still, he held back his chuckles and questions as he watched Caroline cry everything out.

'I'm sorry,' Caroline sniffed, pulling away.

Nathalie shrugged and gave her a warm smile. 'Cry all you want. This isn't a particularly nice shirt.' She was still wearing her battered, old, white shirt covered in holes. Caroline couldn't help but chuckle.

'This is Stefan,' she said, waving her hand towards the man leaning against the sink. (Nathalie didn't fail to notice the slightly tensed muscles in his arms, ready to pounce of the moment required it.) 'He's a vampire, too. He's going to help me.'

'Good,' Nathalie said cheerfully, sticking her hand out towards him. 'Pleasure to meet you. I'm Nathalie.'

'Pleasure,' he echoed back, taking her hand cautiously. 'How do you know Caroline?'

'She tried to eat me,' she said nonchalantly, a playful grin on her face. Caroline had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but Nathalie waved it off. 'We hit it off, didn't we, Caroline?'

She nodded enthusiastically.

'You know about vampires?' he said, disbelievingly. She seemed to be an ordinary human, minus her delectable scent and extremely calm demeanour.

'I've come across a few in my time,' Nathalie said, before turning to Caroline. 'Can you get home right now, Caroline? Don't you need an invitation?'

'I think so,' she said softly, her voice sad. Nathalie reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

'Come back to my place for a bit if you want,' she offered. 'We can go back to yours when you feel better.' Caroline said nothing, contemplating the idea.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow before she continued. 'I have hot chocolate and some bloody strong alcohol I guarantee will blow your head off,' she turned to Stefan. 'Alcohol helps the cravings, right?'

His brows furrowed at her, and he wondered exactly what she knew about vampires and how she had come across that knowledge. As well as that, he wondered whether he could trust Caroline with yet another stranger that had popped up in Mystic Falls out of nowhere. He voiced one of his concerns. 'How can I trust you with Caroline?' he said flatly, ignoring the shocked look Caroline threw at him.

'You pick her up later if you want,' she replied, a soft smile on her face.

The air was tense for a few seconds as Stefan seemed to stare her down. 'Fine,' he sighed and Caroline squealed, clapping her hands. (He had never noticed just how neurotic Caroline was until that day.)

'Great!' Nathalie chirped. 'Caroline can text you the address.' She grabbed a hold of Caroline's hand and pulled her out of the bathroom.

'Kreacher!'

Stefan heard a loud_ crack!_ that seemed to come from down the hall, and another one just a few moments later. He put his head round the door, and Caroline and Nathalie had disappeared.

He wasn't sure if his brow had ever furrowed quite this much in one day. Where the hell did they go? What the _hell_ is a Kreacher?

* * *

'Wanna talk about it?' Nathalie said, digging through her cupboards as Caroline finished her hot chocolate which Kreacher cleared up without any hesitation much to Caroline's surprise.

'Not really,' she said quietly. 'I don't want you to think of me any differently.' She wasn't sure why she valued Nathalie's opinion so much. They had barely known each other a day, but she just seemed so nice and accepting and had been so lovely to her when she was all confused that Caroline felt the need to build a friendship with the petite brunette that was brandishing an old-looking bottle labelled 'Ogden's Firewhiskey'. It was a warm brown colour, and Caroline couldn't help but eye it up suspiciously.

'Alright then,' Nathalie said, before she pulled out two tumblers from the cupboard as well. 'I'm going to educate you on the wonders of Firewhiskey instead.'

'Firewhiskey,' Caroline repeated, not once taking her eyes off the bottle. 'Is that a good thing to feed a vampire?'

'No creature should be deprived of the joy that is Firewhiskey,' Nathalie said firmly, pouring out a generous amount into each tumbler and shoving it in Caroline's direction.

Caroline stared into the glass, taking a tentative sniff. It smelled hot. Was that even possible?

'Chug it,' Nathalie grinned evilly, before throwing back her own drink. Her face creased up as the hot liquid burned down her throat, but she didn't cough. Caroline did the same thing, except she coughed.

Flames shot out of her mouth towards Nathalie, who managed to duck just in time. Camarin, who had been lounging on the counter behind Nathalie, yowled and shot out of the room in surprise. Caroline's face was frozen in shock as Nathalie burst into laughter.

'Oh Merlin!' Nathalie snorted, tears running down her face. 'I love firewhiskey!'

'What the hell is that?!' Caroline screeched. 'Can I do that again?!'

* * *

_Thank you for the completely overwhelming response to the story!  
With extra special thanks to all of my reviewers, because those are my favourites.  
Sorry the chapter's a little shorter than usual. :(  
Let me know what you think anyway - __**please leave a review!**_

_xo_


	4. The Harpy Eagle

**rewrite date: 1st of april, 2016****  
****view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

Fred Weasley and creative OC lovers should definitely check out **banshee-hime**'s story called** Singed**. You won't regret it.

* * *

A couple of hours after Kreacher apparated the girls back to Nathalie's home, they were (to put it simply) wasted. Two empty bottles of Firewhiskey sat on the table between them, having been shared out quite evenly. Another bottle had been opened and was about three quarters full. Caroline was more than capable of holding her drink now that she was a vampire – even though this stuff was significantly stronger than anything she had tried before – and Nathalie was more than able to keep up after years of practice drinking Firewhiskey with Fred and even Hermione and the girls. It was actually pretty funny the way the girls were giggling about how Camarin had wrapped herself around Nathalie's neck like a very cute and slightly macabre scarf.

'She's so cute!' Caroline cooed, reaching her hand out to tickle the kneazle under her chin. Camarin stayed stock still for just a moment before she relaxed and released a sound that faintly resembled a purr. The vampire seemed to make Camarin a little uncomfortable, although she didn't seem particularly alarmed in any way. Nat put it down to the fact that vampires were generally considered 'dark' creatures.

Generally. If Camarin truly felt threatened by Caroline, she would've made it very clear to everyone by now.

'So what else can you do? Y'know, apart from use a wand,' Caroline asked, blinking to focus her blurry vision on Nathalie. She shrugged in response.

'A lot of things. What d'ya have in mind?'

'Do you use broomsticks?'

Nathalie nodded. Caroline perked up, her eyes shimmering in excitement. '_Really?_' she breathed, astonished. She was used to Bonnie, and she was definitely not like the stereotypical story-time kind of witch. She figured that witches were actually total opposite to everything she learned about them in fairytales. Now, she had actually found a witch that was quite similar to the ones in her imagination! Apart from, y'know, the green skin and boiles and crooked nose. (It still bugged Caroline incessantly that Nathalie was so _damn_ pretty.) 'Is that how you all get around then?'

'No,' Nathalie chuckled, reaching for the bottle and pouring more drink into both of their tumblers. 'There's portkeys, the floo network, several ways of flying-'

'Explain,' Caroline commanded. Her eyes hardened in her curiosity, and a glimpse of the pre-transition Caroline shone through with her demanding ways. Nathalie laughed.

'A portkey is an object that has been charmed to transport one or more wizards to a specific location at a particular time, usually in the form of a piece of junk like a stick or an old boot so it doesn't attract the attention of Muggles-'

'What the heck is a _muggle_?' Caroline interrupted, and Nathalie's eyes flickered to the blonde for a moment.

'Non-magical beings, normal humans. Anyway,' Nathalie continued, 'We use the floo network, which is basically travelling through a fireplace with floo powder. You step in, say where you want to go and if they're connected to the network, then you can travel to that location.'

'Why can't we have that?' Caroline pouted, crossing her arms. Nathalie snickered, eyebrow raised.

'Have you forgotten you're a vampire?'

'Right, point taken. You can fly without brooms?' Caroline was once again enraptured by the brunette witch sat next to her.

Nathalie nodded. 'Not just on our own though. Brooms are the most popular way of flying. There used to be more popular ways of doing it, but they were banned in the U.K because they were classed as Muggle artefacts. Like flying carpets, or cars. My godfather had a flying motorbike.' The last statement caused Nathalie's eyes to glaze over slightly, reminiscing – she looked saddened for a moment, although it escaped Caroline's notice.

'Those are real too?!' Caroline shrieked. This girl was turning more and more into a fairytale witch as the minutes go by! She never imagined that flying carpets would be real. Flying cars, too? She'd love one of those.

'Yep, and they're legal in most countries around the world. Most commonly in Asia, I believe,' Nathalie nibbled on her thumb. 'Popular, too, if I remember right.'

'Popular enough to get into Muggle fairytales,' Caroline remarked, and Nathalie chuckled.

'Yes. Oh, and I can apparate too. It's-'

'What the hell is apparation?' Caroline interrupted (again). Nathalie glared at her slightly, and she leaned back into her seat in apprehension at the look the brunette was giving her. 'Sorry.'

'If you keep interrupting me then I probably won't tell you anything about my world,' she stated, eyebrow creeping further and further towards her hairline.

'No!' Caroline said, whining ever so slightly. 'You can't tell me that there's so much more out there and not give me any details!'

'Then stop interrupting,' Nathalie stated. Her tone was firm, yet playful. Caroline noted that she should probably learn how to use that tone herself – might come in handy one day. 'As I was saying, I can apparate. It's basically teleportation. Like Kreacher does.' As she finished the sentence, Kreacher apparated into the room with a loud _crack!_, eyes curious.

'You can do that?' Caroline breathed.

'Mm,' Nathalie said. 'It's not very pleasant, though. It's like being squeezed through a really tight rubber tube.'

'Why don't you just travel like that all the time?'

She shrugged. 'It's difficult,' she said. 'It takes a huge amount of focus to do so. Kreacher practices a different strand of magic to me. He practices elf magic. He's much better at it than I am, so usually he takes me places, just like how he brought us home tonight. Plus, I have to know where I'm going. That usually means that I have to go there first. Kreacher doesn't need to know things like that.'

'Are there a lot of you?' she questioned.

'Well, there's magical communities all round the world,' Nathalie said. Her world geography and politics wasn't great, but she wasn't ignorant of the other magical dotted around the world. 'There's a good amount of witches in the States, although as far as I'm aware they're mainly present in Massachusetts. Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is there.'

'Salem is where Bonnie and her family came from,' Caroline said. At Nathalie's questioning look, she continued. 'Bonnie is my friend. She's a witch, too, but I think you called her a Wiccan?'

Nathalie nodded in understanding. 'Yeah. I'm no expert, but Wiccan witches are far more common in the U.S than my kind – whereas Wiccan witches are fairly limited in number in other places in the world. Ilvermorny is a pretty small school, many go to other places for their magical education.'

'So there's, like, witch schools everywhere?' Caroline said. Nathalie nodded.

'There's eleven in total. Scotland, France, Scandinavia, Japan, Russia, Africa, Brazil. Obviously, the one in Massachusetts and I can't remember where the others are. It's actually pretty rare for any of the schools to interact. It only happens once every few years.'

'What's the difference?' Caroline said, noticing that Nathalie was looking at her questioningly. 'Between you and the other witches.'

'Wiccans?' Caroline nodded. 'Well, I don't know much about Wiccans to be honest. From what I've read, they're basically Muggles that have a little bit more magical capability in them, but not quite enough to use it the same way we do, so they use what little they have to channel the magic around them.'

'I thought they channelled nature, or their ancestors,' Caroline's brows were furrowed.

Nathalie shook her head. 'I guess that's what they believe. There's magic all around us, though, and there's really only one kind. They just get it from a different source. I was born with magic, you see. And when I cast a spell or apparate or make a potion, for example, I'm using my own magic.'

'But what about the whole balancing nature thing?'

The witch chuckled. 'That's just a set of rules that were put forth to them a long time ago to prevent them from doing anything too outlandish. Many of the consequences they face from supposedly '_upsetting the balance_' are actually inflicted on themselves, _by_ themselves or their ancestors, because it's too big of a magical change for them to handle. These rules have just been exaggerated more and more as the years have gone on.'

Caroline thought about this for a minute. 'So, you're basically more powerful than they are, because you were born magic and you don't have those limitations.'

'We do have limitations, although they're mainly laws and then the general limits of any kind of magic. I mean, it's like anything else in life, some are better at magic than others – but yes, pretty much.'

Their tumblers were empty again, so Caroline reached over to fill them back up. Information and details that seemed insignificant to Nathalie were quite monumental for Caroline, and she needed a moment to let them sink in. Watching the wonder on Caroline's face took Nathalie back to when she was eleven, when Hagrid told her that she was a witch. It took her back to the first time she went to Diagon Alley, the first time she watched a spell be performed, and the first time she performed her own spells. It was a wonderful if confusing feeling that she had basked in when she discovered the community that had been living under her nose unbeknownst to her during her first eleven years of life. The feeling of wonderment, of fascination and complete awe when she tried to figure out whether these things were actually real. Now that she was older, she understood the impact of growing up as a Muggle and how it had shaped her character. If she'd grown up in the magical community, she would've never seen self-washing pots or Quick-Quotes Quills as anything special. She had something to compare all of these marvellous things to. So, she let Caroline stew in her thoughts and, before they both knew it, the third bottle was empty.

'So,' Caroline started, a cheeky grin working her way onto her face (it had taken a little while for her to gather the courage to ask this question), 'Can I see your broom?'

'D'you want to ride it?' Nathalie had a crooked grin on her face, eyes slightly glazed over showing just how drunk she actually was. Her voice of reason chirped in protest in the back of her mind – it's never a good idea to go flying whilst intoxicated, but it was dark out and she was feeling reckless. She couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction when she saw the joy in Caroline's eyes.

'_Really?_' she gasped, clapping her hands together. 'You're serious!'

'I'm serious,' Nathalie affirmed, crooked grin still in place. '_Accio_ Firebolt.'

They heard a rustling and a small '_bang!_' before a broom zipped into the room and Nathalie caught it, making sure not to hit any of the bottles off the table. She stood up, slightly shakily, broom clutched lovingly in her hands.

'Oh wow,' Caroline said, staring at the broom curiously. 'It's so sleek.'

'Were you expecting just a pile of twigs?' Nathalie laughed, looking at the lovely, tidy bristles of the broom. Caroline nodded. 'I lost this broom three years ago. It was a gift, for my thirteenth birthday. It was just a pile of twigs when I found it.'

Nathalie walked towards the front door, and Caroline followed behind wordlessly, too much in awe to really make a response. When she was on the patio, she turned to Caroline. 'This might feel a little weird.' She waved her wand over Caroline's head, who gasped when she felt the feeling of an egg being cracked over her head, the contents running down her face and body.

'What did you just do?!' she shrieked, reaching up to feel for the offending egg and finding nothing out of the ordinary. Her eyes were the size of saucepans when she noticed Nathalie beginning to distort before her eyes, seemingly blending into the background behind her. Caroline looked down at her hands and noticed that she was doing the same thing. She sputtered slightly in shock.

'Disillusionment charm,' Nathalie said flippantly. 'Makes you harder to see. Obviously, you're a vampire, so you'll be able to see me no matter what but this will hide us from prying Muggle eyes.'

Nathalie mounted her broom, gesturing to Caroline to do the same. 'Get on,' she said excitedly. 'Pretend you're on a motorbike. Make sure you hold on tight. Just don't, y'know, break my back or anything.' She seemed to realise at the last moment that Caroline could quite easily break her spine if she wasn't in her right mind – for example, panicking from zooming up into the air at high speeds with no safety measures to protect her.

She walked up to the broom and reluctantly put her leg over it, not quite sitting down but placing herself very close to Nathalie none-the-less. She held onto her waist as Nathalie pushed off from the ground and they hovered there for a minute as Caroline got her bearings.

'Ready?' Nathalie said. Her voice was laced with utter happiness, excitement and perhaps a slight drunken slur. Caroline was probably feeling brave because of the Firewhiskey, but that didn't matter. She nodded anyway, ignoring the fact that her breath rate was speeding up rapidly.

Without further ado, they took off.

Nathalie took note that, next time she took someone on their first broom ride on a _Firebolt_ of all brooms, she should probably cast a silencing charm on her passenger as well. She wasn't sure whether her ears would ever recover from a scream that loud. She would later ask herself why she could even hear Caroline's scream at all – it was unbelievably loud and high pitched, and Nathalie was very surprised that it wasn't only in the hearing range of dogs.

* * *

Stefan sighed.

It had been a long night. Dealing with the body, Damon, the Lockwood mystery and (and this is the kicker) Caroline getting turned into a vampire, he was feeling an exhaustion that he wasn't sure whether was normal for a vampire. About half an hour ago, he had got a text from Caroline letting him know exactly where this Nathalie girl lived. It was full of typos, but Google Maps eventually helped him decipher the text.

Caroline had clearly taken Nathalie up on the offer of alcohol.

Walking towards the gate, he pressed the buzzer and rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited for an answer. A few minutes passed, and no response came – he repeated the process a couple of times until he got bored waiting. Rolling his eyes, he opened the gate and stepped through. It felt strange – like walking under a very, very light shower of extremely cold water – but he shook off the feeling and started making his way up the driveway. Straining his ears, Stefan tried to listen to any conversation in the house. Apart from the occasional shuffle, he heard nothing. Surely, if there were more than one person in there, he would hear more than just the occasional shuffle?

He narrowed his eyes, running every possible scenario through his mind. Perhaps he was wrong to trust the new stranger just because Caroline did. Stefan knew of her nature; she was many things, but naïve was probably Caroline's most prominent trait. Without a moment's hesitation, he flashed towards the front door. As soon as he stopped, he heard a loud hiss and jumped in surprise – there, in the shadows, a pair of glowing, yellow eyes were staring at him. He couldn't help but stare back, enraptured in the gaze. It was unnerving, seemingly staring into his soul and Stefan felt the urge to flinch. Perhaps what was making him most uncomfortable was that he could literally _only_ see the eyes – that was completely creepy in itself.

'Stefan?'

He whirled back in surprise. Two very windswept looking girls were standing behind him. He was sure they weren't there moments ago – he would have heard their heartbeats – yet, here they were. Caroline was wearing the same clothes from earlier, a healthy flush in her cheeks and her usual curls ruffled in a kind of endearing way. Nathalie was also in the same attire as before, her longer hair appearing more tangled but still looking like it was _supposed_ to be like that. She, too, had a healthy flush to her face and both girls appeared exceptionally cheerful, much to Stefan's relief. His eyes focused on the broom in Nathalie's petite hands. It looked very shiny, very well kept, and like it had never swept up a speck of dirt _ever_. It looked weird, but Stefan shrugged it off. He was there to take Caroline home.

The silence was awkward, though. It was the kind of quiet where in the movies, a bit of tumbleweed would roll across the screen and it lasted for a good few minutes before the silence was broken.

'Stefan,' Caroline repeated, looking cautiously at the jumpy vampire. (Were vampires even supposed to jump?)

'Caroline,' he said in response, almost automatically. He felt like smacking himself upside the head when he said that, realising that it was a completely pointless greeting seeing as they had been staring at each other for several minutes prior. 'I've, um, come to take you home.'

'Oh!' Caroline jumped. Apparently she had entirely forgotten that she had to go home and compel her mother to let her in at some point. She had been enjoying herself a lot with Nathalie – drinking, learning about Nathalie's world, letting out her worries and going for a _fly_. What seventeen year old in Mystic Falls can say that, to unwind, they went for a_ fly_ around town? After the first minute of sheer terror, she had actually enjoyed the ride a lot. Maybe it was the speed of the broom or the fact she was flying several hundred feet above the ground with absolutely nothing stopping her from falling off and going splat on the ground apart from a miniature woman and a stick giving her a huge adrenaline rush, but it actually turned out to be a lot of fun. 'Right, okay. Are we going now?'

'If you're happy to,' Stefan said, looking at Nathalie cautiously. She hadn't said anything since he had appeared at her doorstep. She seemed calm – the fly had certainly sobered her up and she was feeling relatively normal apart from the headache building in her temple and the general 'off' feeling that indicated a hangover creeping up on her. He wouldn't have known that though, so to him, she just seemed like a fairly intimidating nineteen-year-old girl who was staring him down.

'Yes, yes,' Caroline said. The awkwardness was making her feel flustered. Turning around quickly, she grabbed Nathalie in a hug. She felt arms wrap around her waist after just a moment of surprise, and she gave the witch a small squeeze. 'Thanks for having me, Nat. And for looking after me.'

'No problem,' Nathalie grinned warmly. 'You're welcome any time. Drop by soon, okay? You still have my number, yes?'

Caroline nodded. 'I'll text you; we'll do something soon. Maybe Stefan can come!' she turned to him expectantly. Somehow, he didn't seem to like the idea of spending the day with the two girls, but Caroline decided that could be remedied. He looked at Nathalie apprehensively, debating what the correct answer to that statement would be. Despite feeling like her emerald-green eyes were staring into his soul, he found no ill-intent, dislike or discomfort in them. She didn't seem overly bothered by his presence, so he nodded and shot them both a smile. Caroline squealed, clapping her hands whilst Nathalie laughed at the over-enthusiastic blonde. She could always appreciate someone who was enthusiastic. Enthusiasm was definitely one of Caroline's more prominent traits; she couldn't help but be amused around her, even finding herself fairly _happy_ around her. She was no stranger to contentment after living through the chaos she had for the first seventeen years of life, but actual happiness was rare for her, particularly after Fred passed away. Caroline was like a ball of sunshine and fresh air, which she appreciated greatly.

'I'd like that,' Nathalie said, shooting Stefan a quick smile. 'Call me if you need any help with anything, alright?'

As the girls embraced once again and said another goodbye, Stefan couldn't help but wonder to himself _how_ exactly this girl would be able to help a baby vampire without getting herself killed as, in his experience, most people who 'helped' newborns were helping by providing a long and satisfying meal. He was miles away when Caroline turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to say goodbye and leave with her.

'I'll see you another time, Nathalie. It was nice to meet you,' he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small (reluctant) smile. He got one back, except her expression appeared far happier and lit up her face, despite the lack of light around them.

'You too, Stefan,' she said. To his surprise, she walked towards him and gave him a quick hug. Her scent - that close to him - caught him entirely off guard. He fought to keep his true face in check, his inner vampire jumping for joy at just how delicious this girl smelled. Definitely abnormally appetising for a regular human. By the time he had registered what had happened, she had pulled away and had, once again, turned to the blonde. 'Text me when you've got yourself inside, alright?'

Once again, Caroline nodded. Giving Nathalie one last smile, she held her hand out to Stefan who took it. Both of them sped off home as Nathalie watched them from her spot on the patio. Camarin, who had been observing the whole exchange, slinked out from under the shadows. With a noise similar to a purr, she wrapped herself around Nathalie's legs, rubbing his cheek on her shins. She smiled, picking her up and holding Camarin comfortably in her arms. Turning to walk into the house, she waved her wand at the direction of the broom, which zipped back into the house and returned to its rightful home before it was summoned to her. Not once ceasing the tickles on Camarin's content belly, Nathalie made her way through the house, thinking over the events of the day and contemplating just how interesting Mystic Falls was turning out to be.

* * *

'You had a good time, then?' Stefan asked, glancing at Caroline in the passenger seat. She was bobbing her head to the music, rather enthusiastically and he was trying to contain his chuckle.

For someone who had made her first kill not six hours ago, she seemed quite cheerful.

'Nathalie's great,' Caroline said happily. 'She has this _insane_ whiskey. Stefan, you'd love it. You like whiskey, don't you?'

'I do like whiskey,' he said. How much had she actually had? He knew that it took much more for a vampire to get drunk than an average human being. She must have had a good amount for her to be this cheerful.

'Oh, you'd _love_ this one. It's like breathing fire. Except, you know, you're a vampire so maybe you wouldn't like it, but I like it. Surpisingly. And it's so cool! I bet you've never had it before. It's called Odgen's Firewhiskey, something like that. I think, anyway. Oh, you have to try it sometime. She never told me where she actually got that stuff. I'll have to ask her tomorrow,' Caroline babbled.

Stefan chuckled. 'If you remember to ask her tomorrow, that is.'

'I will!' she protested, voice indignant. 'I'm not that drunk, you know.'

'So you say.'

She huffed in response, crossing her arms. Instead of bobbing her head to the tune on the radio, she started tapping her foot instead. Stefan had a slightly cheeky smirk on his face that just aggravated her more.

'I won't be able to go outside tomorrow, will I?' she said quietly. All of a sudden, the light-hearted mood in the car evaporated. Caroline was a social butterfly; she thrived in social situations, around people. He could feel the distress rolling off her in waves as she thought about being cut off from the outside world.

'No,' he said shortly. Stefan hated to be the bearer of bad news – he had to reaffirm it for her, though. She sighed.

'I don't suppose Bonnie will want to make me a ring either,' she said sadly, turning her head to look out the window. For a moment, she found herself enjoying the view because of her enhanced vision. Normally, she wouldn't be able to see a metre out of the car in the dark. One of the perks, she supposed. 'She doesn't seem to like me very much now.'

'Bonnie will come around,' he said firmly, turning the corner towards Caroline's house. 'She's your best friend, I don't think she'll let that go because of something that wasn't your fault.'

'Yes, but she's a witch now,' Caroline said bitterly. 'Because witches are _apparently_ in charge and now I'm the worst, most despicable creature to have ever walked this earth. _Unnatural._'

'You're not,' Stefan said. Even to his ears, this protest sounded feeble – he, himself, knew how it felt to think of himself as a foul, _wrong_ creature that didn't belong on the spectrum of what was natural. He did however believe, wholeheartedly, that Caroline was a bright, happy girl that would make it as a vampire if she went down the right path. At that moment, he decided that he would help her in a way that he wished someone would have helped him when he had first turned. 'I'm going to be teaching you how to hunt.'

'What, so I'm on the vampire vegan diet now?' Caroline joked. Her vampire instincts were protesting at the thought of living off bunnies for the rest of her eternal life. A part of her felt more guilty hunting animals than humans. They were, after all, much cuter.

'Yes,' he nodded. Caroline groaned, but leaned back in defeat regardless.

'When?'

'Soon.'

'Can Nathalie come?' she said, after a moment of quiet. It was slightly hesitant.

'What?' Stefan said, surprised. 'Why would you want Nathalie to come?' He couldn't find it in him to understand why Caroline would want to expose the girl to such a dangerous environment. A vampire in hunting mode, especially a new vampire with little to no control, would be completely unable to stop themselves from killing whatever was in their path regardless of the emotional attachment to them. Nathalie would be fresh bait for Caroline, especially since she smelled so good. Why on _earth_ would she want Nathalie there?

'She can look after herself, and I like her,' Caroline said simply, shrugging.

'What's up with that girl, anyway?' he said suspiciously. They had pulled up in front of Caroline's home now. There was still a light on, so Sheriff Forbes was obviously home. 'Is she a hunter or something? She could be dangerous, Caroline.'

'You're right, she is dangerous,' she replied. Stefan's eyebrows rose in surprise as he took in Caroline's expression – it wasn't in her usual nature to be this serious about anything, but she looked confident in her words. She stared directly into his eyes. 'But I like her, and I don't think she's a threat to anyone. As for '_what's up with that girl_'-' Caroline rolled her eyes, 'she has a name, by the way – you should ask her yourself. She's really nice. Honestly.'

Stefan narrowed his eyes. 'The great gossip of Mystic Falls isn't spilling secrets?' he gasped sarcastically. 'Vampirism has changed you.'

Caroline's eyebrows furrowed, missing the joke. 'You trusted her enough to let her look after me tonight. If you want to know anything about her, then maybe you should ask her yourself.' She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned towards the door. 'Thank you for the ride home, Stefan.'

He was surprised by her reaction. She seemed a little annoyed with him for asking about Nathalie, very defensive indeed. He decided that maybe he shouldn't prod Caroline for answers right that moment – her neurotic tendencies were amplified, after all – and settled for handing over a black duffel bag to her instead when she looked at him questioningly.

'There's some blood bags in here. Just in case.'

She looked at him for a minute, before nodding. Caroline shot him a small half-smile, taking the bag and stepping out of the car and walking up the path to her front door. As he drove off, she took a deep breath and rung the doorbell.

'Caroline?' Liz chided, answering the door. She was in her nightwear. This was a little strange in itself, Caroline wasn't used to seeing her in anything but her work uniform. 'Where on earth have you been?'

'_You're going to invite me in_,' Caroline compelled, hoping to every higher power above that her mother wasn't on vervain. '_And when you've invited me in, you're going to go to bed and forget that I ever asked you this question. You'll think that I went to Elena's house and came home a little late, and that nothing is wrong_.'

'Why don't you come in, sweetheart?' Liz smiled, her annoyed expression disappearing. Caroline nodded, making her way into the house. 'Did you have a nice time at Elena's?'

She smiled at her mother, putting her acting skills to the test. Her mother looked so happy to see her home and had gone to get Caroline a glass of water, like absolutely nothing was wrong. Like her daughter hadn't just taken away her free will, lied to her and also been turned into a creature that would make her skin crawl if she only knew the truth.

She couldn't help the stab of guilt that pierced her heart, tearing through her body like a tidal wave.

* * *

Stefan slammed the car door shut as he pulled up to the boarding house, dreading facing Damon somewhat. A part of him wanted to simply speed up to his bedroom and avoid any confrontation with him, although the rational side simply shot down that idea with an, 'Oh, he'll come find you anyway.'

He sighed.

'And so the prodigal son returns!' Damon sang. 'Had a good night looking after your beloved Elena and new protégé?'

'Shut up, Damon,' he said wearily, making a beeline for the alcohol. 'There's enough to think about without dealing with your crap tonight.'

'Ah, yes,' Damon nodded. 'Like the Lockwood mystery.'

'That,' Stefan agreed, 'But there might be something else.'

'Elena broke a nail, maybe!?' Damon gasped dramatically, falling onto the sofa. 'Whatever shall we do?!'

'No,' Stefan snapped. 'Something else. Have you heard about that new girl in town?'

Damon seemed to sober up slightly. 'Might have come across her. Why?'

'She knows about vampires,' he replied thoughtfully, swirling his whiskey around his tumbler and ignoring Damon's frown. 'Caroline went to her place tonight.'

'I knew there was something off about her,' Damon said, brows creased in thought.

'You met her?'

'Bumped into her at the Grill with Ric. She gave Matt an eighty-dollar tip, for God's sake. Weird, I tell you.'

'There is something a little off about her,' Stefan was contemplating everything he knew about Nathalie thus far. 'Caroline said she's dangerous, so obviously she knows something.'

Damon rolled his eyes. 'And _Caroline_ didn't tell you? Dude, if there's anything about that girl that stands out is that she cannot keep her mouth shut to save her life.'

'She did about this,' Stefan said firmly. 'She wouldn't say a word about Nathalie Potter. Told me to ask her myself.'

'Tried that,' he said. 'Shot me down.'

Stefan's lip quirked up into a wry half-smile. 'Maybe you're not as charming as you think.'

'Why do you hurt me?' Damon shot back sarcastically, chugging back the rest of his bourbon. 'Don't think she lives alone, either. She had two meals with her when she left the Grill.'

'I didn't see anything when I went to pick up Caroline. And she didn't mention anyone else,' Stefan paused. 'Got a creepy cat, though. But you might be right, I heard shuffling inside the house.'

'Kill her and be done with it,' Damon shrugged. 'We have a bigger problem to deal with. Like Mason Lockwood, and we can get Ric to come round in the morning so we can bug him about it.'

Stefan frowned as Damon stood up and left the room, ending the conversation there. Somehow he felt like killing Nathalie Potter would be a mistake as well as being wrong; she seemed to be quite an enigma, and his gut instinct was telling him that, if he caused her any harm, it would come back and bite him in the ass.

Hard.

* * *

Nathalie pulled the curtains shut as Caroline sat quietly on her bed.

'Can't you make a daylight ring?' she said sadly, staring at Nathalie with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

'I had no idea they even existed until you called me about it,' Nathalie said calmly, sympathetically. 'I'm sorry, Caroline.'

'I guess I'll have to rely on Bonnie, then,' she sighed, leaning her head back. 'I really want to go spend the day with Matt.'

Nathalie couldn't help but laugh. 'Of all things you're worried about, you're worried about spending the day with your boyfriend?'

'Hey!' Caroline snapped, causing Nathalie to raise her hands defensively (whilst still chuckling under her breath). 'It's important, you know!'

'I know, I know,' her mouth quirked into a smile, 'It's sweet.'

Caroline huffed. 'Maybe to you.'

'Stefan will convince your friend to make your ring. I mean, she's been your friend for years, and she'd be a bloody awful one if she abandoned you over something you had no control over,' she said, before frowning. 'Unless Wiccans truly are as judgy as everyone at home says.'

'They are,' Caroline confirmed, her tone quiet. Nathalie tilted her head sympathetically at the blonde.

'Hey, it's not all flowers and rainbows in my world either. Halfbreeds aren't looked at with a very sympathetic eye.'

Caroline was just about to enquire what exactly a half-breed was, when her phone rang on her bedside table.

_Caller ID – Stefan._

She reached for the phone, directing her first statement at Nathalie as she rolled her eyes. 'Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You need to convince Bonnie to make me a daylight ring,' she said immediately, clutching the phone a little tighter than she probably should.

Stefan sighed on the other end. 'I'm working on it, I'm just going to see Elena off and I'm meeting Bonnie at the Grill after.'

'Where's she going?' Caroline said, feeling a bit out of the loop. She was wondering why the friend that _shouldn't_ have a problem with her being a vampire hadn't come to visit.

'She's going to Duke with Damon.'

Caroline waited for a moment for Stefan to expand, but he didn't. 'Um, why?'

He didn't reply immediately, and the silence was tense. 'Damon and I don't think that Mayor Lockwood was killed by accident. He was affected by the Gilbert device, but he's not a vampire.'

'O-kay,' she said slowly, still not understanding. 'And this has to do with Duke – and Elena and Damon going away _together_ even though he was a jerk to me and she's supposed to be my best friend who's on my side – how?'

'Alaric's wife – Elena's mom – studied Mystic Falls for years,' he started. Caroline could almost picture him pinching his nose as they spoke. 'We think that the answers we need might be in her research somewhere.'

'And you're here because you're babysitting me,' she said bluntly, rolling her eyes. 'You know, Nathalie can look after me, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to.'

'Caroline, it's not like that,' Stefan groaned, although he couldn't deny that his main reason for staying was because he needed to watch her. 'I'm happy to stay here.'

'Don't lie to me Stefan. Nathalie's here anyway.'

'No, it's fi-'

She cut him off. 'Any ideas on what the Lockwood's might be?'

'Alaric says that Isobel studied the lycanthrope as well as vampires.'

Caroline gasped. 'What, like – as in, werewolves?'

At this point, Nathalie went from waiting patiently for Caroline to finish her conversation to listening attentively at every word being said (at least, on Caroline's side). Her sudden interest didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

'Yes,' Stefan said. 'We just need to see if there's actually any truth to it, seeing as Isobel mainly studied folklore.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Well, vampires were supposedly folklore yet here we are,' she said dryly. 'Do you need someone to pick you up from Elena's?'

'No, I was just going to walk-'

'That'll take too long,' she interrupted again. 'I need this ring as soon as possible. Nathalie can pick you up from Elena's and drive you over, I think she was going soon anyway.' Caroline's eyes shot to Nathalie for confirmation, who shrugged in response. She didn't mind.

'Caroline,' Stefan sighed.

'_Stefan_!' Caroline retorted. 'Just convince Bonnie with your broody, sympathy-inspiring face to make me a daylight ring and then I can go live my life as normal.'

Caroline hung up, rubbing her eyes. This was far more stressful than anything she had ever had to deal with.

'Mason Lockwood?' Nathalie enquired, eyes curious.

The blonde turned to her in surprise. 'You know him?'

'I bumped into him at Target a few days ago. Did you say that Stefan thinks he's a werewolf?'

'Yeah. Damon and Elena are going to Duke to do some research about it today apparently. You don't mind picking him up from Elena's, do you? I really need to go out.'

'It's fine with me,' Nathalie shrugged again. 'So, a werewolf, huh?'

'Could that actually be true?' Caroline enquired, feeling slightly scared and even more so when she looked at Nathalie's knowing grin.

'Well, yeah.'

'No,' Caroline breathed. '_Seriously_? Are they dangerous?'

'Extremely,' Nathalie nodded, 'But only on the full moon. And, for future reference, I suppose I'd better tell you that almost any creature you've heard of in your fairytales, and more, are most likely real.'

'Even fairies? Mermaids, dragons?' she said dryly. Her eyes widened as Nathalie smirked, amused. '_Really_!? Dragons!?'

'Yes,' she nodded. 'All of those things are real. Mermaids aren't very pretty, though. The legends have somewhat warped the perception of mermaids a little. Anyway, you wanted me to pick up Stefan from Elena's?'

Nathalie snickered as she waited for Caroline to give her the address. Her departure was delayed by a good ten minutes due to Caroline's shocked stupor and consequently very excited questions about mermaids and dragons and where she could possibly find them.

* * *

A short time later, Nathalie pulled up outside Elena's home just as two pretty women, one brunette and one with dark blonde hair, walked towards Damon followed closely by Stefan and Alaric. She noticed wryly that this was the suspicious one she had met at the Mystic Grill not forty-eight hours ago, and gave an internal (sarcastic) jump for joy.

As she parked behind Damon's car, she got the attention of the group. Before she got out, she pulled on her shoes - they were black with tweed patterning, a round toe and a wedge heel.

She could barely drive in heels on the correct side of the car. She had no chance when her driving in America was ropey enough as it was.

Her outfit consisted of a pair of black leggings, a baggy grey t-shirt and a khaki green, sleeveless cardigan. It was simple but accentuated her rounded curves nicely. Coupled with a grey handbag, her boots made the outfit look more sophisticated and made her look much taller than she actually was. Her ears were full of silver studs and around her neck was a choker necklace that held Fred's silver engagement band. Her make up was simple, a subtle brown smoky eye with a translucent pink lip balm. Her long, dark hair fell in it's usual messy, beach curls to the small of her back. Her wand was tucked safely into her boot, ready to be wielded if any occasion should call for it. She knew she looked good today – apparently, she wasn't the one who noticed.

The men were looking at her with interest, all having met her briefly since she moved into town. The women were appraising her, looking her up and down and wondering whom exactly this girl was, and whether she was there to steal their men.

'Nathalie,' Stefan greeted. 'You're early.' Elena turned to him sharply as he greeted her. How did he even know her?

'Bang on time actually,' she said, looking down at her silver watch. Her accent cut through the atmosphere like a knife, in stark contrast to the American ones surrounding her. She turned to the girls, a warm smile on her face. 'I don't think we've met. I'm Nathalie Potter, resident newbie.'

'I'm Jenna, Jenna Sommers,' the blonde stuck her hand out towards Nathalie, grinning right back at the girl. She gestured towards Elena, who had a somewhat pained but friendly enough expression on her face. 'This is my niece, Elena.'

'Pleasure,' Nathalie said happily, taking Jenna's hand and giving it a firm shake. Jenna wasn't a large woman by any means, but she couldn't help but notice how her hand engulfed Nathalie's small one quite easily. 'I've been enlisted to drive Stefan to the Mystic Grill once he's seen Elena off. Fair warning though, Stefan, up until about four days ago I drove on the other side of the car. And road.'

'Apprehensive,' Stefan said, a crooked grin on his face. Jenna and Alaric laughed as Damon stared Nathalie down, whilst Elena chuckled nervously.

'Enlisted?' Jenna enquired.

'Caroline sent me,' she shrugged. 'Persuasive, that girl. Definitely a force to be reckoned with.'

'You're Caroline's new friend,' Elena said quietly, realisation dawning on her. This is the girl that Stefan told her about last night – the one who knew about vampires, whom Caroline had gone to before she went home. Elena couldn't figure out whether she felt even more uncomfortable, or somewhat relieved that Stefan wasn't romantically interested in the newcomer in any way.

'Mm,' Nathalie hummed in agreement. 'Don't let me keep you from your goodbyes, though.' She cast one more smile at the group, before walking back and leaning against her car, pulling her phone out of her handbag as she did so.

'Sorry you can't come too, Stef,' Damon smirked, slowly tearing his eyes away from the strange girl in front of him and turning towards his brother.

Stefan pointedly ignored him. 'Call me if you need anything,' he said, smiling gently at Elena.

'Oh, I'll take really good care of her,' Damon chimed in, looking triumphantly at his brother. This didn't go unnoticed by Elena, who glared at the older Salvatore. She turned to Stefan, grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hard. Nathalie, never a fan of public displays of affection, couldn't help the disgusted look that crossed her face (which Damon mirrored) and the sarcastic, gagging noise that flew from her mouth.

When the couple pulled away from each other, Nathalie was made into the target of Elena's glare as she shrugged, a cheeky look on her face. 'I'm not a fan of P.D.A. Sorry.'

She didn't sound apologetic at all.

Opening her mouth to say something, Elena was interrupted by Damon. 'Okay, time to go,' he said, rolling his eyes and getting into his car. Instead, she turned to Stefan, giving him one last smile as she got into the passenger seat.

Before long, they had driven off, Jenna had said 'Lovely to meet you' to Nathalie again before disappearing into the house and Stefan was in the passenger side of her car.

'So, I hear your brother and your girlfriend are going to Duke to do some werewolf studies,' she said casually, not once taking her eyes from the road.

'Yes,' he said stiffly. He felt a stab of annoyance that Nathalie had clearly been let into the loop – obviously Caroline had filled her in. He couldn't say he was surprised, considering her past history of gossiping, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He wasn't sure how he felt about Caroline keeping Nathalie's secrets, whilst she was perfectly okay with spilling theirs.

'And how do _you_ feel about it?' Nathalie said, smirking. Stefan turned to her questioningly, not quite sure what she was talking about. 'I've heard you're broody, but you have a face like a slapped arse right now.'

Stefan glared. 'I'm not broody. And I'm fine.'

'Right,' Nathalie nodded. 'Totally fine.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I mean that,' Nathalie sighed, 'Your brother's a complete dolt from what I've heard. A handsome dolt, but still a dolt. Your girlfriend is going with him to a university to research a creature you weren't even aware existed. It can't be a normal day for you.. or is it?'

'What do you mean '_you even aware existed'_? Do you know something?' Apparently, Stefan was deaf to everything Nathalie said apart from that particular statement. 'I've been around for over a century and a half, and not once have I come across one. Neither has my brother. I mean, odds are we would have come across one of them by now.'

The drive from Elena's to the Grill wasn't a long one. It was by complete chance that, as Stefan asked that question, she pulled up just outside of it.

Nathalie shrugged. '_You_ exist, don't you? Doesn't that mean that werewolves could exist too? A hundred odd years isn't that long of a time. People live to a hundred and never discover the supernatural world. What's another fifty years on top of that?' Stefan stayed quiet, staring at her. Nathalie shooed him away. 'Now, get in there and get Caroline her ring.'

'You obviously know something,' he protested. 'Tell me what you know.'

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, challenging him as his stare intensified.

'Get _out_ of my car, Stefan.'

* * *

'Is Mistress hungry?' Kreacher croaked as she walked through the front door, dropping her keys on the side table. 'Kreacher can make some pie for Mistress.'

'No thank you, Kreacher,' she shook her head, patting his head as he looked saddened. 'I'm going to floo home for Sunday dinner, I think.'

'Mistress is going to the Weasley house?'

'Yes, I think so,' she nodded, looking at her watch. It was about the time that everyone arrived for the weekly Weasley gathering, and she missed her family and friends. Missed her kind of normal. Not as much as she thought she would, but still. 'I'll bring you some home, alright? Maybe you can work on that list of things you want for your cellar whilst I'm gone.'

Kreacher perked up. 'Yes, Kreacher will do that, Mistress,' he said happily. Well, it sounded very begrudging and miserable, but Nathalie knew that his tone of voice never strayed far from his usual grumpy croak.

'Great. I'll see you in a couple of hours, then,' she grinned as she stepped into the living room. After Caroline had left the night before, she had received an owl from the Kingsley informing her that her fireplace had finally been connected to the network. It would be much easier now for Nathalie to go home.

'The Burrow,' she said clearly, stepping into the green flames. She still felt a little fear of the floo network after her accidental trip to Knockturn Alley just before her second year. Maybe that's why she enunciated everything so clearly now.

'NATHALIE!'

* * *

'_This is Nathalie. Leave a message or drop me a text, I'll get back to you soon_.'

'She's not picking up,' Caroline groaned, 'It just keeps going to voicemail.'

Her and Stefan were walking through the woods, beginning their hunting lesson for the day. They were currently out stalking for bunnies, squirrels and possibly a deer, if she was lucky enough.

'I still don't understand why you want her here whilst you hunt,' Stefan said, slightly grumpily. He wasn't into the fact that Nathalie had, essentially, kicked him to the curb this morning.

'I think she could help me,' Caroline said airily, scanning the vicinity for a bunny to eat.

Stefan rolled his eyes. 'Why, because she knows things? Like how she knows about werewolves?'

'Exactly!' Caroline chirped, not expanding on Nathalie's knowledge of them. She knew only of what she had been told that morning; to be honest, after Nathalie mentioned the existence of unicorns she had been far too distracted by that to ask about a werewolf and she knew pretty much nothing anyway.

'Can't you ask her about the wolves?'

Caroline glared, and Stefan put his hands up defensively. He then placed them together, in a begging gesture, his tone changing into a plead. '_Please_, Caroline.'

'All she said is that they're only dangerous on the full moon, and that there's good ones and bad ones just like normal people,' she retorted, once again scanning the area.

'And you believe that's all she knows?' Stefan asked, brows raised. 'Come on, Care. She knew about alcohol helping vampires control their cravings and that's not exactly common knowledge. D'you really think that there isn't a possibility that she knows much, much more?'

She let out an exasperated huff. '_Fine_, Stefan. I'll ask her.'

'Now?' he prodded. Caroline narrowed her eyes at him.

'In case you haven't noticed, Mister Salvatore, I've been calling her for an hour and she hasn't picked up once. I will ask her when she picks up,' she snapped. 'Anyway, wasn't this day supposed to be about me learning how to eat on your vegan vampire diet?'

'Right,' Stefan said, turning his attention to the ground. He couldn't help but feel guilty; he was supposed to be helping Caroline, and yet, he's bugging her about problems that wouldn't- shouldn't- have been hers to begin with. 'Yes. Sorry.'

'Okay,' she nodded. 'So, what am I supposed to do again?'

'Chase it, grab it,' Stefan said. 'Feed on it.'

'Isn't killing cute, defenceless animals the first step in becoming a serial killer?' Caroline sniped, grinning playfully at him.

He fought back the small smile trying to make its way onto his face.

'Well, you sort of skipped the serial killer and went straight to vampire.'

* * *

The Burrow was pretty full that day. Everyone, including Andromeda and Teddy, had made it to Sunday dinner apart from Charlie, who had once again gone back to Romania. Nathalie couldn't be happier, and they were all ever so excited to see her.

Especially Teddy, Hermione, Ron and George.

'Natnat!' Teddy squealed, holding his chubby arms out towards her as his hair turned a bright, bubblegum pink in his excitement. She laughed and took him from Andromeda's arms, spinning him around as he clung onto her neck tightly, giggling all the while. 'I missed you!' he chortled happily, smiling into her neck as she held him close.

'Missed you too, Teddybear,' she grinned. 'It's only been a few days though sweetie pie.'

'Go home with you!' he said, his English sounding a little broken and slightly slurred, but impressive regardless. He was very good at speaking for his age, most likely because of his large family. The Burrow was never quiet after all and he spent many, many hours there; learning to talk quickly was part of the territory.

'One day, sweetheart,' she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

'Alright, Mum, Angelina's on her wa- Nathalie!' George walked through the front door, his face brightening as soon as he spotted his friend. He sped over, engulfing Nathalie in a hug and picking her up, causing both her and Teddy to squeal in surprise.

'George! I have a child here!'

'Teddy loves it, don't you mate?' he said, smirking as the child giggled. 'How's life across the pond? You look divine as usual my love.' Nathalie rolled her eyes playfully at him.

'Interesting,' Nathalie smirked right back, eyes twinkling underneath her glasses. 'I have so much to tell you all.'

'You best not be getting yourself into any trouble,' Mrs. Weasley chided, walking into the room with several plates of food following behind her. She turned to Nathalie with a raised eyebrow, smacking George's hand away from the roast potatoes without looking at him. She ignored his glare as she put her hands on her hips, scrutinising Nathalie. 'You said you'd be careful.'

'I am!' Nathalie protested, cowering slightly under Mrs. Weasley's glare. 'Blame Ron, Mrs. Weasley, he picked where I was going to live!'

'Hmm, we'll talk about everything after dinner,' she said, looking at Nathalie carefully. 'George, where's Angelina?'

He rolled his eyes. 'I told you, she was on her way. She was just finishing up the trifle.'

'You said absolutely no such thing,' Mrs Weasley snapped, just as the flames went green and Angelina stepped out, clutching a large, glass bowl full of trifle.

'Auntie Angie!' Teddy chirped, waving happily at her (although he still hadn't released his hold on Nathalie).

'Hey Teddy. Didn't expect to see you here Nat,' she said, leaning over and giving them both a hug whilst carefully balancing the pudding in one arm.

'Oh, thank you for the pudding, dear,' Mrs Weasley said, hurrying over and taking it from Angelina. 'Looks delicious.'

'You already cater for an army,' she chuckled, 'It's absolutely no trouble at all.'

'You're going to regret saying that Ang,' George chuckled as she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 'She'll just keep giving you things to cook from now on.'

Mrs Weasley smacked him upside the head.

'Now, where on earth is Ronald?'

Mrs Weasley shot out of the room, making a beeline for the kitchen where Andromeda was peeling a mountain of carrots. Teddy cooed slightly, twirling Nathalie's long waves in his hands as her, Angelina and George looked on in amusement.

* * *

Leaning back into the sofa, Ronald let out a long, drawn out belch, earning him a smack from Hermione and Nathalie as the rest of the women groaned in disgust whilst the men laughed.

'Ow!' he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. The entire family and extended family had gathered into the living room. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny had squashed themselves on the sofa. Mr Weasley was sat in one of the armchairs, Mrs Weasley perched on the arm whilst Fleur and Bill shared the other. George had his back against the side of the sofa with Angelina leaning on his chest. Percy had pulled two chairs from the kitchen, one for himself and one for Andromeda. Finally, Nathalie was leaning against Hermione's legs, clutching a sleepy Teddy to her chest. Dinner had been quite an affair, many people talking over each other with a huge amount of food consumption that probably wasn't healthy for anyone. Basking in the afterglow of a lovely meal was therefore a strict requirement (after Mrs. Weasley made them all clean up of course).

'Tell us about your new place then Nat,' Bill said, trying to ignore the discomfort of his overstuffed belly. 'Are you liking it?'

'I've not really explored that much, to be honest,' she replied, shifting Teddy's head so that it was snuggled against her neck. 'There's literally one restaurant, though. Absolutely tiny town.'

'But you said it was interesting earlier,' George said, raising an eyebrow. 'That sounds completely tedious, to be honest.'

Nathalie tried to shrug. 'It's full of vampires.'

'_What_?!' Mrs Weasley shrieked as everyone sat up a little straighter, all sharing a similar expression of surprise. Teddy's eyes snapped open at Mrs Weasley's voice. His eyes began to water as the shock wore off, and Nathalie quickly cradled his head and shushed him, giving him a kiss on the forehead. 'Oh, I'm sorry, Teddy dear.'

He sniffled as Nathalie continued to speak. 'They seem alright. I mean, the townsfolk are still walking. There's Wiccan witches too. Maybe a couple of werewolves.'

'You said this was a Muggle town,' Hermione said, forehead creased in concern. 'That doesn't sound very Muggle to me.'

Nathalie, again, tried to shrug. 'I don't think you could class this town as normal to be honest. It's probably the closest to our strand of magic that the Muggle world has to ours,' she turned to Ron, her face amused. 'Of all places you could've picked, Ron.'

'Hey!' he protested as Mrs Weasley glared at him, 'Don't blame this on me!'

'It's alright,' Nathalie laughed, rubbing the back of Teddy's head trying to get him to go back to sleep. It seemed to be working. 'I did nearly get eaten by a vampire the other day.'

'How did that happen?' Mrs Weasley snapped, 'I told you to be careful!'

'I am being careful, Mrs Weasley,' Nathalie sighed exasperatedly. 'She got through my wards, which meant she meant no harm when she crossed them. She was turned the night she found me, and I felt bad for her. She's actually really lovely, you'd like her a lot. Her name's Caroline.'

'Vampires are turning Muggles?' Percy intercepted sharply. 'Is that even legal?'

'Most vampires start off as Muggles, Percy,' Hermione chimed in. 'It's just how it is.'

'These ones can walk in the sun,' Nathalie said airily.

The room was shocked into silence.

'What?' Andromeda breathed. 'How on earth-'

'Wiccan witches can cast a spell on a piece of Lapis Lazuli jewellery to enable them to walk in the sun,' she said, appraising all of the expressions around her. They varied from blankness, to horror, to plain old shocked. 'It's a pretty well-kept secret, though, even in the vampire community. Caroline told me that Wiccan witches keep Grimoires with spells they've either created or collected and pass it down through the generations, and apparently they don't like sharing. As far as I know, only a few vampires even know of it's existence, let alone actually own one, seeing as there's only one bloodline of Wiccans who know the spell left.'

'That should be impossible, though,' Mr Weasley protested. 'Wiccan magic is supposed to be far weaker than ours, and we've not found any solution like that yet.'

'Maybe it just works completely differently,' Angelina said. 'I mean, has anyone in our world even tried finding a solution to the sun?'

'Not as far as I'm aware,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'But prejudice against creatures and half breeds has always been a huge problem with the people and the Ministry, in my opinion.'

'You need to look after yourself better, Nathalie,' Fleur said, concern laced in her heavily-accented voice. 'Nobody needs to be peeking you up in a coffin.'

'I'm absolutely fine, Fleur,' Nathalie laughed. 'I actually quite like it. For once, I'm not worrying about my own problems.'

'Is being away helping?' Mrs Weasley asked quietly, true worry shining in her eyes. It lessened slightly as Nathalie gave her a soft, reassuring smile, feeling warmed by the concern for her wellbeing displayed by everyone in the room.

'Yes, Mrs Weasley. I really think it is.'

'And you'll let us know if you need anything at all?'

'Promise.'

'Good.'

* * *

Caroline was yanked away from Matt. In her frenzied feed, she tried desperately to kick against her captor, who was holding her arms down and saying something to her in an attempt to calm her down. She couldn't quite understand what he was saying, and she continued to fight her way towards the source of the blood.

Eventually, though, she understood.

'Stop! Stop, stop, stop!' Stefan said, holding her tight as his tone cut through the fog of her brain like a knife.

Her eyes, fixated on Matt, widened as he fainted from the blood loss.

'Oh my God,' she breathed, guilt pooling in her stomach as she realised exactly what she had done. Almost blindly, she pulled her phone out from her pocket, dialling her most recent number and ignoring Stefan's protests. It took a few rings and she was sure it was going to be directed to voicemail like it had done earlier, but eventually, she picked up.

'_Caroline_?' Nathalie said, her voice concerned.

'I bit Matt,' Caroline choked. 'I didn't mean to.'

'_He's not dead, is he_?' she replied, her voice neutral. In the background, Caroline heard a distinct 'what?!' and a few surprised gasps, but ignored them. She shook her head rapidly, before realising that Nathalie wouldn't be able to see. 'No,' she said softly. 'No, no, no. Stefan stopped me.'

As she said his name, she realised that his eyes were wide, panicked. Her forehead creased in confusion.

'_Good. Alright, I'll be there in just a minute, okay? Hang tight_.'

'Caroline, we need to get out of these woods now,' Stefan said quickly, eyes darting around the trees. 'We need to leave.'

She heard a rustle behind her.

'What was that?' she stuttered.

'Matt, stay down,' he said firmly, 'Do not move.'

The rustling became louder, and it was no longer in one location. Neither Stefan or Caroline could pinpoint exactly where the noise was coming from.

She could feel the panic bubbling up her throat.

'You, and me, we're gonna run,' Stefan instructed. 'It's gonna follow us; we need to lead it away from Matt. You need to run as fast as you can, do you understand me?'

He sounded like a parent, Caroline noted, but nodded anyway.

'Go, go!'

Both of them sped off, arriving at the old ruins before long. Caroline couldn't wait any more - she stopped, and asked Stefan the question that was burning in her mind.

'Wait!' she said, causing him to stop and turn to her. 'What is it?'

'It's a werewolf. He will try to kill us, and he can,' Stefan said, panic laced in his voice. He held onto her arm with every intention of pulling them away from the woods, when they were interrupted.

'Hey!' Tyler appeared from the ruins. 'What are you two doing?'

A loud _crack_! echoed through the trees. All of their heads snapped in different directions looking for the source, but saw nothing.

'What are you doing?' Stefan retorted slowly, peeling his eyes away from the trees for just a moment. Tyler was about to respond, when the werewolf pounced.

It took less than a second to take Caroline down, looking completely rabid as spit dripped from menacing, sharp teeth. She screamed, trying desperately to keep those jaws away from any part of her.

Stefan rushed towards them, pushing the wolf off as Tyler stared on in shock.

The wolf started prowling again, growling at the two vampires. Out of nowhere, a shadow crossed the group from above and they all turned their heads to it, including the wolf.

Without any warning, it let out a large caw and made a dive towards the wolf. Its huge talons cut deep into his back, causing him to howl in pain and whimper as he fell to the ground. It took only a moment for him to recover, completely ignoring the blood pouring from his back as the bird circled around him. A vicious bark tore at his mouth as he turned towards the once vampire again, his instincts screaming that a vampire was a much greater threat than a bird.

'No!' Tyler shouted as the wolf prepared to leap towards her again. The eagle had flown between the two, looking very ready to pull the wolf's eyes from it's sockets. It even looked like it was glaring at the predator, who stared back for a few moments.

It was quiet apart from the sound of the bird's wings flapping as the wolf turned to Tyler, sizing him up. Slowly the wolf turned away, deciding to follow its orders. He attempted to run off, but the deep tears in his back slowed him down significantly as the blood pouring from the wounds started staining his fur. He swayed and hobbled a little bit, trying to find a way to run that wouldn't pull the muscles too much and hinder his getaway. As he ran, he didn't notice the eagle following him until he was out of sight of the vampires. The creature then landed on the ground, staring into the direction the wolf had run in.

A few seconds later, it was no longer an eagle.

Nathalie took a deep breath, noting the blood stains on her boots with a sigh and ran back in the direction of Caroline, Stefan and Tyler.

* * *

Stefan sped towards Tyler, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. '_You won't remember seeing me and Caroline tonight_.'

'I won't remember,' Tyler chanted.

Stefan sighed, relieved to see that he could be compelled. It was short-lived, however, as a familiar husky voice reached his ears.

'That's not going to work for long, you know,' Nathalie said airily as she appeared before them.

'Nat!' Caroline breathed, launching herself at the girl. The scent of blood reached her nose then. It wasn't as appealing as human blood, otherwise she probably would have lost control, but the smell was definitely there. She looked to the source of it - Nathalie's shoes - and gasped. 'That was-'

'Yes,' she interrupted, her eyes still fixed on Stefan, who was staring straight back. 'Later, Caroline.'

She nodded, and Nathalie continued. 'Care told me about your animal diet. You're weaker than you should be,' she said matter-of-factly, 'Your compulsion will wear off before you know it. Especially since he has the wolf gene.'

'And what do you propose we do, Nathalie?' he snapped, fed up of how she seemed to know so much. It had been a long time since he had actually wanted to torture someone for information seeing as she was being so cagey with him.

'Move,' she said firmly, pulling Caroline off of her and pulling her wand from her boot, pointing it in Tyler's face. Stefan looked on in confusion, noticing how Caroline's face was quite impassive.

'_Obliviate_.'

Tyler's eyes glazed over as he turned and walked in the opposite direction, heading to another part of the woods. Stefan's eyebrows shot up as he noticed that Tyler's expression was eerily similar to a person who had been recently compelled.

He gaped at her as she turned back to him, her eyes totally serious.

'I feel like we have a lot to talk about,' she said calmly, 'But let's deal with the Matt issue first. You bit him, Caroline?'

She nodded.

'Lead the way.'

Caroline started walking towards where they had left Matt, followed closely by Nathalie. Stefan stayed rooted to his spot for a minute, contemplating what he had just seen.

Slowly, he lifted his left foot and started taking one step after another, following the two girls.

* * *

'_You're not going to remember what I did to you, or what you saw me become_,' Caroline compelled, her voice laced in sadness.

'We were just making out in the woods,' he said robotically.

'_And then an animal attacked you and bit your neck_.'

'It's weird, it just came out of nowhere.'

Nathalie focused on her poker face, refusing to show Stefan and Caroline how weird it was to watch the compelling process. She felt extremely sorry for the busboy, but pushed back any of these feelings in favour of the compassion bubbling in her chest towards Caroline. She had absolutely no idea how she must feel - what Nathalie did understand, however, that death was now part of Caroline's nature whether she liked it or not. And she felt proud that, despite a couple of slip ups, that she was managing to keep herself in control extremely well if the context of the situation was taken into consideration. She had only been turned a few days ago, after all.

Nathalie had seen witches and wolves more driven by their bloodlust than Caroline.

Caroline turned to her and Stefan. He was standing next to her, dividing his attention between his new protégé and the mystery girl that had unwittingly barrelled her way into their town and become fast friends with the blonde. 'What are we going to do about Tyler?'

'It's dealt with, and we'll get Matt on vervain. It'll keep you from compelling him, and keep you from drinking his blood.'

She nodded slowly. 'I can't believe I hurt him,' she whispered brokenly. Stefan took a step towards her, as Nathalie took a step back. She knew that this would be a vampire-vampire moment, and decided to stay out of it.

'I know,' he said sympathetically, putting his hand on her arm.

'He's the one person on this planet that I _never_ wanted to hurt,' she sighed, unable to cry.

'It's not going to get any easier. You're just gonna have to work that much harder.'

'I shouldn't be with him, should I?' she said rhetorically, shaking her head. 'Because if there's any danger…'

'I'm the last person to make that kind of decision for you,' Stefan said softly, 'If I had to follow my own advice, I would have walked away from Elena a long time ago.'

'You ever think you should have?'

'I know I should have,' he said resignedly. 'I just can't.'

The two vampires looked at each other, realising that they were coming to an understanding. Despite the interesting turn her night had taken, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two forming a genuine bond even though the reason for it wasn't particularly pleasant.

'Come on,' she said gently, holding a hand out to each vampire. They looked at her curiously. 'I have a few bottles of Firewhiskey left. I'm sure you have a few questions for me, Stefan, and you could both use a couple hours of relaxation.'

Caroline shook her head. 'You go first,' she said, coming to a decision. 'I have something I need to do.'

Nathalie and Stefan looked on in sympathy, knowing exactly what that meant. She gave them a soft smile in return.

'Call Kreacher when you're finished. He'll bring you back to mine.'

She nodded, speeding away from the two. Nathalie again held her hand out towards Stefan, who took it cautiously.

A second later, a loud _pop_! had signified their departure.

* * *

'_Jesus Christ!_' Stefan gasped, trying to suck some oxygen into his lungs. He felt queasy, which he hadn't felt in almost a hundred and fifty years and he had forgotten how unpleasant the sensation was. One second he was in the woods; the next, he was standing outside Nathalie's home. Gasping for air, he stared at her with a horrified expression on his face as she looked on in amusement. 'What the _hell_ did you just do?'

'Straight to the point, aren't you?' she chuckled. She turned to the door and shoved the key in the lock, giving it a twist before she swung the door open. 'Let's sit you down and get you a drink. Make yourself at home.'

'_What are you_?' he asked, this time more fiercely. She rolled her eyes at him and made her way to the kitchen anyway, pulling out two bottles of firewhiskey and three glasses. She decided to tuck a bottle of elf-made wine under her arm for good measure. Somehow, she managed to carry three bottles with one side of her body and six glasses with the other (three tumblers and two wine glasses in one hand, with the last wine glass also tucked under her arm). She made her way back into the hallway, heading towards her living room as Stefan stayed frozen in the doorway. She placed everything down on the coffee table, pouring Stefan a firewhiskey and holding it out to him with a raised eyebrow.

He didn't take it, but he did start walking towards the living room.

Nathalie rolled her eyes, pushing it into his hands regardless once he was in arm's reach. 'Look, Stefan, I get that you're feeling all protective and suspicious and all that, but right now you need to have a drink,' she eyed his posture up. 'I'm not telling you anything whilst you're this strung out.'

He looked down at his drink. It felt slightly warm in his hands, yet not – it was a strange sensation, and curiosity burned his insides. 'Is this the Firewhiskey Caroline told me about?' he said slowly, trying to relax. He needed the information more than he needed anything else and she didn't look too dangerous at this moment (he couldn't help but stare at her boot where that stick of hers was tucked into every few moments) so he decided that following her advice would probably work out best for him in the long run.

Nathalie nodded, her mouth quirked up into a smile. 'She likes it a lot.'

He was apprehensive, but after a few minutes of staring into his glass, he raised it to his lips. Stefan couldn't help but feel surprise at just how strong it actually was. And, it was pretty delicious – he didn't think he had ever tasted anything like it. Damon would have a field day over this stuff.

'It's good,' he said, the compliment sounding empty even to his ears. He winced slightly.

Nathalie tilted her head, looking at him blankly. Without any warning, she reached out and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze when he tensed up at her touch.

'I'm not going to hurt you or anyone else here, Stefan,' she said softly, a genuine smile playing at her lips. 'Chill out.'

He didn't respond. A century on this planet had taught him how to read people fairly accurately – from what he could see, Nathalie was being genuine about her claim. He slowly leaned forward as she took her hand away, his placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, waiting.

'This conversation will last forever and go in fifteen hundred directions if we don't set out what's going to be talked about,' she joked, knowing that Stefan had too many questions for her to even comprehend. 'I'll tell you who, and what I am, and then we'll talk about werewolves, alright?'

He nodded, and Nathalie opened her mouth to speak.

'I'm a witch.'

* * *

_An extra long chapter to make up for the wait and to celebrate 100+ reviews in 3 chapters!_

_Thank you all so much for your positivity. xo  
_


	5. Werewolf and Magic 101

**rewrite date: 2nd of april, 2016****  
****view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

'_Naaaat_~!'

A jovial, masculine voice echoed through Nathalie's living room. She hopped out of her armchair in excitement, almost spilling her Firewhiskey everywhere as she dashed to the fireplace, ignoring Stefan's yelp of surprise.

George Weasley's face was grinning happily in the fireplace, the coals having rearranged to build the structure of his face in what could only be described as a fairly accurate manner. Nathalie's eyes gleamed in happiness, which her voice only reflected when she spoke.

'Georgie!' she said cheerfully, kneeling in front of the coals. 'You alright?'

'Fine, fine,' he said dismissively, and Nathalie imagined him waving his hands on the other side of the call. 'Just checking in.' His smile was cheeky, and Nathalie rolled her eyes.

'That's not the only reason,' she prodded. 'You're terrible at communication. And I saw you an hour ago.'

'Why do you wound me, oh sweet one?' he said dramatically, before he caught Stefan's (very wide, surprised eyes) staring at him. 'Oh! Is this your new vampire friend? I thought she was a she.' The coals representing his eyebrows waggled suggestively, and she fought back the urge to slap at it, knowing she would just burn herself in the process. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him. 'Are you behaving yourself, young lady?'

'George, this is Stefan,' she said, pointing at the vampire. 'Stefan, this is George. One of the great lights of my life.'

'Howdy!' George chirped. 'Isn't that how you Americans greet each other?'

Nathalie widened her eyes. 'George!' she chided, 'You can't say things like that to people.'

George studied Stefan carefully, looking for a reaction. To his satisfaction, Stefan let out a weak chuckle before muttering a quiet, but polite, 'Pleasure to meet you.' He turned to Nathalie defiantly.

'See!' he goaded. 'He's not bothered. Are you, mate?'

Both Nathalie and Stefan shook their heads, although for different reasons.

'Seriously, George,' she grinned, 'Why are you calling? What have you done to annoy Angelina? Or have you blown something up this time?'

George stared at her. 'This is why I don't call,' he deadpanned, 'You have absolutely no faith in me whatsoever, Miss _Outstanding Moral Fibre_.'

Nathalie immediately burst into a fit of giggles. She only laughed harder when she noticed him trying desperately to keep up his _I'm very serious_ Weasley face. Eventually, though, he did break and the sounds of his laughter joined hers.

(Neither noticed Stefan sitting there awkwardly, unable to understand the joke.)

At that moment, a loud _crack!_ echoed through the room. Kreacher appeared in the living room, holding Caroline's hand in his own. He released it before staring into the fireplace. 'Master Weasley,' he croaked.

'Alright Kreacher?' he said, nodding his head in greeting.

The laughter started up again. A mildly teary Caroline had erupted into her own fit of giggles when she looked at Stefan.

The vampire's face had drained entirely of its colour, turning an impossible paper-white. His eyes were wide, trying to process the sight of the old-looking, grumpy creature with huge ears and big bug-eyes staring back at him defiantly. Caroline was sure that it was the most Stefan had worked his facial muscles in years - his normally broody expression had reverted into a combination of child-like wonder, complete confusion and a healthy dose of complete terror.

'Hello there, pretty lady,' George said to Caroline, eyebrows wagging. This time, Nathalie did smack at the coals, only mildly scorching herself in the process.

'Ouch!' he yelped, glaring at her.

'You're married and you just got back to your honeymoon,' she snorted. 'Restrain yourself.'

'You're not even in the bloody country anymore and you're still under Hermione's goody-goody influence,' he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, as Nathalie stared blankly at him. He snorted, but continued. 'I did, in fact, call you for a purpose.'

Nathalie looked at him. He stayed quiet, obviously in an attempt to wind her up (and it was definitely working). 'And?'

'Dear little Ronald's surprise birthday celebrations are scheduled for the day _after_ his birthday this year,' he said joyfully, as Nathalie raised her eyebrows.

'You were in charge this year, weren't you?' she deadpanned.

'Yes.'

'You're making him think we've all forgotten his birthday to mess with him, aren't you?' she sighed.

'Indeed, Miss Potter! Five points to Gryffindor,' he chuckled.

'Okay,' she nodded, deciding that an attempt to rein him in would just be a waste of energy. 'Is that all?'

'Why, you seem very eager to be rid of me, oh Chosen One,' George said playfully. Nathalie's eyes darted to Stefan and Caroline, who looked extremely confused. Stefan looked like he was desperate to ask a million and one questions, and she sighed again.

'Never, Georgie,' she retorted, smiling gently at him. He seemed to nod in satisfaction, grinning at her happily.

'See you in a few days, Miss Potter!' he chirped, before his face disappeared from the fireplace. Nathalie waved before she stood up, rubbing her knees which were feeling remarkably stiff from kneeling. She moved towards her armchair, grabbing her drink as she sat down and got comfortable by tucking her legs beneath her.

'I like what you've done to the place,' Caroline commented, her eyes darting around the room. Every time she visited the house there was something new. The first time she came in there was barely a bookshelf, rug and sofa in the living room; now, it had been decked out with two incredibly comfortable looking, overstuffed armchairs with a matching loveseat that slanted just slightly away from the fireplace, a beautiful mahogany coffee table, another couple of bookshelves along the walls as well as a large television that could be pulled away from the wall and angled towards the sofas. The floor was covered in a dark brown, incredibly soft carpet and she had added lamps that made the atmosphere cosy, a perfect place to relax in the evenings with a glass of wine.

Stefan stared at Nathalie expectantly as she nodded her thanks to her friend, although his eyes darted towards Kreacher every few seconds and the elf was more than happy to stare straight back, acknowledging the challenge. Caroline's eyes had lit up at the sight of the Firewhiskey on the table, and happily poured herself a glass before sitting next to Stefan on the sofa.

'So,' Nathalie started, 'Where were we?'

'What the _hell_ is that _thing_ over there?!'

'I beg your pardon?' Nathalie said threateningly. Caroline sputtered indignantly, putting a protective hand on Kreacher's head as the elf glared dangerously at the vampire. 'He is a house elf. He's _my_ house elf, and you'll treat him with respect if you know what's good for you.'

Stefan's eyes widened at the threat. 'Right,' he said slowly, looking at Kreacher apprehensively. 'I'm sorry, _Kreacher_.'

His glare didn't soften and he started grumbling under his breath. 'Filthy half-breed,' he said particularly loudly.

'Kreacher,' Nathalie said firmly. 'Get a few snacks together for us, please.'

Continuing his grumbling, Kreacher stalked out of the room.

'You're not a witch,' Stefan said carefully. 'I've met dozens of witches in my time, and you're not like any of them.'

'You'd never met a werewolf before, either,' Nathalie couldn't help but reply, a mocking tone in her voice. She sighed as she turned to Caroline. 'This is going to mirror our conversation almost exactly, isn't it?'

Caroline nodded as she took a sip of her drink.

Nathalie took a deep breath before she started. 'My name is Nathalie Lily Potter. I am nineteen years old and I was born in a little village named Godric's Hollow. I'm a different kind of witch to the ones you're used to. The witches you have encountered are primarily found in the Americas, and they are Muggles - non-magical humans - that were born with just a slightly stronger magical core than the average person. Their magic, however, is not strong enough to channel into a wand and they have to borrow the magic from other sources in order to use it effectively. I, on the other hand, was born with magic and all of the magic I use is my own.'

'What's a Gryffindor?' he pressed, thinking back to George's comment and Caroline looked at her curiously as Nathalie had conveniently left that piece of information out in their many discussions.

'It's the House I was in whilst I was at school. It accepts the chivalrous, courageous and determined,' she sighed again, 'But that has nothing to do with werewolves. Isn't that what you wanted to know?'

Caroline looked like she was going to protest, until she saw Stefan's face. Both understood that they needed to know as much about werewolves as possible - and currently, it seemed like Nathalie held the answers to the questions they had. Was their curiosity about her really worth delaying gaining knowledge that could potentially give them an advantage on their enemy?

Stefan decided to drop the subject, just for now. So he nodded.

'Right,' Nathalie took a swig of her drink. 'Now, werewolves within your community - the official non-Magical community, if that makes sense - are exactly the same as the ones in ours. Except, witches who are werewolves were very rarely born that way. Muggle werewolves - so non-Magical ones - are born with the werewolf gene that is activated once they kill someone, whether it's intentional or not.'

'Why are they different?' Stefan said, twitching uncomfortably. 'Surely if it's genetic then both groups of people would be born that way.'

'It's not impossible to be born as a werewolf, and is a legitimate worry for werewolves who are going to be parents. My godson's father was a werewolf, but my godson is not. I imagine it's actually a recessive gene within our community, because we have other genes that are much more dominant. But I'm really no expert on the technicalities.'

'Why are they so dangerous?' Caroline said quietly, thinking back to the wolf in the woods.

'Werewolves carry werewolf venom. Now, for this to make sense, you have to understand that magically-tainted poisons, venoms, potions or what-have-yous all have very different effects on different creatures. For example, magical cures for simple diseases such as colds or potions to fix bones won't work on a muggle, because the magic just won't react correctly. For a muggle to become a werewolf, they must be born with that magic in their body. Some kinds of magic are transferable, some are not. The magic that governs werewolves is not transferable.'

'And what _exactly_ are the effects of werewolf venom on these different creatures?' Stefan asked warily.

Nathalie was quiet as she took a swig of her drink, emptying her glass. Caroline wordlessly handed her the bottle, and she filled it up, nodding her thanks.

'Werewolf venom is magical, and doesn't have any adverse effect on muggles beyond the fact that, if you have been bitten, it bloody hurts like nobody's business. This extends to Wiccans as well, because they are, in the grand scheme of things, also regular humans. Vampires react most adversely to the venom, because the magic in their systems isn't strong enough to fight off the magic in the venom which results in a slow, painful, feverish death.'

Caroline gulped. 'And what does it do to your kind of witch?'

Nathalie stared at them both. 'We, ourselves, turn into werewolves.'

Stefan, who had just been taking a tentative sip of his drink, choked on his whiskey. The result of that was a large flame flying out of his mouth, causing him to leap back, yelping in surprise as Nathalie and Caroline tried their best not to cackle madly at his misfortune.

'How?' he choked out, trying to clear his passageways of any residual whiskey (which, incidentally, was burning his throat quite severely).

'The magical core within us fights against other invasive forms of magic, and werewolf venom falls under this umbrella term. As we are born with the magic, its way of protecting us is counteracting the venom to a point where it doesn't kill us. Of course, it's never actually that simple, and the long and short of it is that the consequence of surviving a werewolf bite is that you transform into one yourself each full moon. It is our own body's way of protecting us from death.'

'But then why does it kill vampires? You just said that we had magic in our systems as well,' Stefan protested.

Nathalie noted that he seemed to have found his voice, and found it quite strange that Caroline was very quiet in comparison to her companion.

'You were not born with magic in your core,' she said bluntly. 'You had magic fused with your blood and your being. Truly, it shouldn't be there.'

'And I'm going to assume that your kind of witch believes that vampires are unnatural and against nature as well,' he sniped back, narrowing his eyes slightly.

'My community is not very forgiving towards any kind of half-breed,' she said airly, and Stefan glared at her for the use of the term. 'Personally, I like to think that I surround myself with good people, whatever they are and whoever they identify themselves as. And nothing is _against nature_ \- as I told Caroline the other day, these so-called 'nature's rules' were a set of guidelines imposed on Wiccans several centuries ago that has, throughout generations of playing Chinese Whispers, turned into maniacal ancestors enforcing the guidelines as Mother Nature's law. Mother Nature has nothing to do with their magic, and in my eyes, this all 'powerful being' does not exist. Every form of life has minuscule amounts of magic within them. It just happens to be that our environment offers these witches the most amount of energy to channel.'

'Are there any other ways in which your kind of werewolf differs from,' Stefan paused for a moment, scrunching his face to find the right word, '_Muggle_ werewolves?'

'You're picking up the lingo already mate,' she winked. 'I guess so, though. From what I know, muggle werewolves resemble wolves more than magical ones, where they maintain a vaguely humanoid form. I think your kind of werewolf is also more vicious, although if you wanted evidence I'm not sure I could back that claim up.'

Nobody said anything for a while. Nathalie was the most relaxed of them all, calmly sipping her drink and listening to the sounds of Kreacher pottering about in the kitchen. Caroline was also fairly relaxed, although her mind was elsewhere following the eventful night all three persons had just gone through. Stefan was, by far, the most tense, and Nathalie was slightly concerned that he would break the tumbler he was holding if he got himself any more wound up. She couldn't guarantee a cordial response if he did break the glass – it was certainly not cheap and she would demand an exact replacement immediately.

'I don't understand how I've never come across any witch of your kind my entire existence,' he said. It didn't seem like a question or even a statement to push for information – it was, simply, a confused statement. Nathalie raised an eyebrow.

'In 1692, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was established. It was pretty successful in limiting the amount of both magical and non-magical creatures that knew about our existence. Anyone who did know about us had his or her memory tampered with, using the spell I cast on that lad tonight. Plus, our kind of magic isn't very common within the States. The highest concentration of them is in Salem, and they're pretty sparse everywhere else. You probably have come across one, you just don't remember.'

'So why are you here?' he said, which seemed to add to the tension in the room.

'Because I wanted a change, and my friend threw a dart on a map to decide where I would move to. Tada!' Nathalie grinned. 'He just so happened to pick probably the most dramatic town in the entire world. Just my luck.'

Stefan paused, 'Are you a threat to us?'

Camarin slinked into the room, her matted white fur reflecting the light from the fireplace. She made her way towards Nathalie, where she hopped up onto her lap and made herself comfortable. Nathalie gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ears as the creature stared Stefan down, appraising the new visitor. All of a sudden, with her tumbler, relaxed stance, dim lighting, armchair and cat, Nathalie looked like a twisted version of the Godfather.

She smirked, taking one more sip of her drink. 'Not unless you piss me off.'

* * *

A couple of days had passed since the incident with the werewolf, and very slowly, Stefan was beginning to warm up to her. She had received daily calls from Caroline, who was starting to cheer up a bit more and took a great liking to talking to Nathalie. She had confessed to the witch that, with all of the recent happenings of Mystic Falls, she couldn't help but feel somewhat left out from her previous group of friends – partially because one of them now hated her, and the other one had a fair bit on her plate.

Caroline wasn't really used to not being the centre of attention.

Nathalie didn't mind at all, though. Ron and Hermione were her two closest friends of note, and outside of her surrogate family in Ottery St. Catchpole, Nathalie didn't have a huge amount of close friends to speak of – which she was perfectly happy and fine about. She did, however, like Caroline very much, and she knew that the blonde was worming her way into her ever-so-slightly jaded heart. She supposed it was a good thing, considering she was so far away from her family and life back home and she knew from experience, after so many summers apart from them all, that many of them were actually terrible with keeping in touch. Almost as bad as she was. Apart from the visit she'd made to the Burrow since her big move and her quick conversation with George about Ron's birthday, she had barely spoken to any of them at all.

Nathalie patted Kreacher on the head affectionately, before grabbing her keys and stepping out of the house, not bothering to lock the door behind her. If one was to remove the supernatural activity around Mystic Falls, it was actually quite a safe place – and crime other than the murders from vampires was actually very, very low.

Plus, she had layers and layers of protective charms and a protective house-elf and kneazle at home.

She hopped into her shiny new Corsa, stopping for a moment to figure out the way to the Mystic Grill. Caroline had called about half an hour ago, inviting her to the diner for a quick spot of lunch and, after a morning spent in the depths of her attic, Nathalie was famished and was more than ready to agree. The drive wasn't a long or particularly entertaining one – although it was made more interesting by Nathalie's loud, off-key singing and headbanging to the Weird Sisters that resulted in slightly hazardous driving – and she was there in no time.

She walked in and spotted the blonde at a small table in the corner, a two iced teas in front of her, playing on her phone.

'Hey,' Nathalie greeted warmly, slipping into the chair opposite her friend. The smile she received in return was just as inviting, and she thanked her very few lucky stars again that she had made a friend in the bubbly, blonde vampire.

'I got you iced tea,' Caroline chirped, pushing one towards her. 'I didn't know what to order you, so I thought I'd go for the safest option. I mean, who doesn't like iced tea? Wait, have you tried it? Didn't you say that you had different drinks and stuff-'

'Iced tea is great, Caroline,' Nathalie snickered, cutting off her babbling. 'You should know that tea is always a safe bet when it comes to the English.'

'So that stereotype is true?' Caroline joked, and Nathalie couldn't help but laugh.

'In my circle of friends it is. Have you ordered yet?'

In their peripheral vision, both girls noticed a brunette girl walk through the door. Elena headed straight for a small table in the center of the room, not even bothering to look around the diner. Caroline sighed slightly, and Nathalie raised a questioning eyebrow.

'I called her and asked whether she wanted to come for lunch with me today,' she said gently, shrugging. 'She said she was busy.'

'Did you tell her I was coming to meet you?' Nathalie said knowlingly.

'Yeah,' she nodded. 'Why?'

'I don't think she likes me very much,' Nathalie grinned cheekily, thinking back to their encounter the day that Elena went to Duke. She reached up to her head and adjusted her cap, which was on backwards and hid her scar quite nicely.

Caroline sputtered indignantly. 'She met you for like, two seconds!'

Nathalie shrugged. 'It's alright, Caroline. Really.'

'She can't just decide not to hang out with her best friend since diapers because of a five second meeting. It's so stupid. Today was the first time she called me. Since, you know, the carnival night,' Caroline sighed. It was only for a moment where she looked a little upset. She perked up quickly. 'Oh! I meant to ask. Jenna, Elena's aunt is having a barbeque later. Do you wanna come?'

Nathalie frowned. 'I don't think that'll be a good idea. Am I even invited?'

'Oh, come on!' Caroline whined, ignoring Nathalie's question. 'You need to get out more. Just come with me. Think of it as a favour to a friend!'

Nathalie snorted. 'Right, fine. Okay. Yeah. Whatever. When are we actually going to order some food?'

Caroline clapped happily. Neither girl had noticed that Damon had walked into the Grill a few moments before, and were staring at them suspiciously, clutching the peach cobbler for the barbeque in his hands.

* * *

She didn't really want to be here.

Nathalie had better things to do than be surrounded by complete strangers that were suspicious of her for a whole day, in someone else's house, relying on someone else's hospitality. Couldn't Jenna have picked another day? She had Ron's party later on that night, and all she really wanted to do was stay at home with Kreacher and hide in her little magic cave. She was pretty happy in her own company, and now she had two parties to be at in one day.

Two parties in one day was gonna make her fat. She had to make an effort to make new friends though, so off she went to Jenna's anyway.

There she was, standing on the doorstep of the Gilbert house.

Sighing, she reached her hand up to knock, but before she had a chance to, Caroline opened the door.

'I heard you coming!' she said happily, grabbing Nathalie in a tight hug. She couldn't help but choke on her breath a little from how hard she was being squeezed.

'I should've guessed,' she croaked, hugging Caroline back. They pulled away from each other and Nathalie waved at the two women standing behind her. Jenna's expression was warm, if not slightly confused, and Elena was smiling as well, although her smile looked like it had been stuck onto her face with superglue.

Caroline turned to Jenna. 'I hope you don't mind! It's just that Nathalie's new and everything and I thought it would be good for her to make some new friends,' she said chirpily, pulling her through the doorway. Jenna waved Caroline off.

'It's fine, the more the merrier. Can I get you something to drink, Nathalie? You look great, by the way.'

'Thank you, I've got somewhere to be after this. I feel a bit overdressed,' Nathalie grinned. She pulled a bottle out of her handbag, which Caroline readily took off of her and went to pour herself a glass. 'I brought some Firewhiskey for you, but I think Caroline's just hi-jacked it.'

'Is it alright for you to be drinking?' Jenna said warily.

'If it is with you,' she shrugged. 'Drinking isn't as big of a deal in England and technically, I'm already legal there, so..'

'What's Firewhiskey?' Elena said, looking through to the kitchen where Caroline was pouring out a few glasses of the amber-gold drink.

'It's native to England,' Nathalie lied smoothly. 'Try it, although if you cough when you first drink it don't say I didn't warn you.'

'What happens when you cough?' Jenna said, eyebrow raised.

Nathalie snickered. 'Feel free to find out. Make sure you're not standing next to anything you can't easily replace.'

Jenna's other eyebrow raised as well, and she chuckled. 'Alright then, as long as it's strong. Come and meet everyone, I think you're the last one to get here.'

Nathalie, Elena and Jenna made their way to the kitchen where Caroline promptly pushed a drink in each female's hand. Nathalie raised it and took a sip, turning to the three men in the room.

She was slightly surprised to see that she recognised them all.

'Everyone, this is Nathalie Potter,' Jenna said, before her eyes turned sharp. 'Be nice, okay?'

Nathalie laughed. 'It's alright. Hey, Mason,' she made her way towards him and gave him a light hug. Damon's eyes hardened at the sight of the two new additions to Mystic Falls being so _friendly_.

'Oh,' Jenna said, surprised. 'You know each other?'

''Know' might be a bit of a stretch,' she laughed. 'I almost broke my nose on his brick wall of a chest in Target my first day here.' She poked his chest, and his surprised expression melted into one of slight embarrassment as the majority of those present laughed at him.

Mason was feeling quite uncomfortable. Again, that feeling of submissiveness was present through every fibre of his being, and his inner wolf – which had raised its hackles at being in a house with vampires previously – was relatively calm in comparison now he was in the presence of the strange English girl. He fought the need to go refill her drink and find her somewhere comfortable to sit.

Damon, on the other hand, was even more alert than before. Now he had to keep an eye on two weirdos – a werewolf and a god-knows-what-else. She couldn't be a regular human, he decided, she smelled much too delectable for that. Plus, she was far too comfortable and getting too close with the people in this town. Even Stefan, who had shared his suspicions not three days before, had kept quiet about anything to do with the girl since he went off somewhere two nights ago. He couldn't help the glare that overtook his features as he stared at the girl.

'Are you attending the high school?' Jenna asked, taking a sip of the whiskey. Impressively, she didn't cough, and Nathalie applauded her as her face scrunched up in surprise. 'My _God_, this is strong.'

'I graduated a couple of years ago, actually,' Nathalie smiled. 'I'm afraid that I'm supposed to be a grown-up now.'

Elena excused herself from the room, making her way out to the patio.

'Yes, only grown-ups can get drinks this strong. Alaric, try it. Honestly.' Jenna poured out a glass for her boyfriend, shoving it in his direction. He took it and stiffed it, scrunching his nose at the heat he felt from it.

'Is it supposed to be warm?' he said warily, swirling it in his glass. Nathalie and Caroline smiled knowlingly, ignoring the questioning glances from those around them. 'Don't be a chicken,' they said simultaneously, and Alaric glared lightly. Without further ado, he chugged the whole glass.

His throat burned. It wasn't like the warm burn from a normal glass of whiskey, it was on _fire_. For the first time in years, Alaric coughed whilst drinking alcohol. He was definitely not expecting the flames that shot out of his mouth – and neither was anyone else.

A chorus of surprised yelps and exclamations rippled through the kitchen, as well as the distinct sounds of two feminine voices laughing very, very hard.

'What the _hell_ is that stuff?' Alaric yelled. In Nathalie's opinion, it sounded more like a girly shriek, but pointing that out would've been rude. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she ignored the small smudges of mascara on her fingers. Caroline did the same.

'It's not called Firewhiskey for nothing,' Nathalie said brightly, pouring herself another glass. The majority of the inhabitants still had shocked, wide-eyed looks, which caused her and Caroline to laugh harder.

'You're trying to kill me,' Alaric grumbled.

'I thought it would be a good ice breaker,' she defended herself weakly.

'I think it worked,' Jenna remarked.

* * *

Caroline was clutching a bowl of chips. She hadn't stopped eating the entire day, much to Nathalie's amusement. They had made their way out to the patio where Elena was sitting by herself, looking remarkably down as she pressed 'dial' again. The blonde vampire sat herself down opposite Elena, and Nathalie sat down next to her, gingerly pulling off her stilettos and giving her slightly sore feet a rub.

Elena thought Nathalie looked a little overdressed. Who wears stiletto heels to a barbeque? She looked at the girl's outfit with a critical eye.

Her stilettos were plain, black and matte with a pointed toe and red soles. She wore ankle skimming, jet black jeans that were high on her waist with a high-neck, sleeveless lace top tucked into it which showed off her tattoos along her right shoulder and underarm. She had several rings on her hands, all silver and some were embedded with simple stones - Elena recognised a couple of Tiffany rings, Pandora rings and a one or two showing off the Vivienne Westwood logo. They highlighted her small, pale hands which had long, slim fingers and a nicely done manicure. Her nails were painted a dark red, and Elena noticed it matched her toes as well. Her ears were full of silver studs, all along her cartilage which reflected the sun's rays when she turned her head. Around her neck she wore black, velvet choker. Her lips were a rosy, tinted red that complimented her groomed eyebrows, incredibly full lashes and razor-sharp cheekbones that had a soft, healthy glow.

'Is that Stefan?' Caroline said, popping a chip into her mouth and breaking Elena's reverie.

'Yeah, he hasn't called me back,' she said, her mouth upturned into a small smile. 'I'm trying to decide if I should be worried.'

'Don't you know where he is?' Nathalie said curiously.

Elena shrugged, although a part of her was tempted to ask Nathalie whether she knew where he was, seeing as they were buddy-buddy enough for her to pick him up the other day.

'I'm sure he's fine,' Caroline said flippantly, continuing to eat. 'God, I can't stop eating! Stefan says it's a great way to sublimate the cravings. It's horrible just fighting the urge for blood every minute of every day.'

Nathalie raised a curious eyebrow at Caroline. She had to give Caroline props for her skill in using that passive-aggressive tone; it was much too chipper for the topic at hand and she got the distinct feeling that she was trying to make Elena feel bad for calling. Or, maybe, she was trying to make her feel bad for having a semi-functional relationship with Stefan whilst Caroline lost Matt to her vampirism.

'I know that Stefan really hates that part of himself,' Elena said softly.

'Yeah,' she nodded. 'And he hates that you're a constant temptation.'

Elena's eyes flashed with hurt for just a moment and her expression melted into one of surprise. 'He said that?'

'The desire to rip out your jugular every time he's with you?' Caroline's eyes seemed to zoom into Elena's. 'Trust me, it's there. It's why I had to break up with Matt.' She popped another chip in her mouth.

Nathalie quietly slipped her shoe back on, feeling the tension in the air. She was quite grateful when Alaric came out, declaring that food is ready. Wordlessly, Nathalie stood up.

'Finally, I'm starving!' Caroline cheered, standing up swiftly and walking as quickly as _humanly_ possible into the kitchen.

Nathalie gently placed a comforting hand on Elena's shoulder as she walked past, giving her a soft smile before making her own way through the door. Elena's eyebrows creased in confusion as she contemplated everything Caroline had just said to her, still feeling the weight of Nathalie's small hand on her shoulder.

* * *

'Dress! Ballerina!' Jenna shouted, staring at the paperboard Damon was drawing on.

Caroline, Jenna and Alaric were sat on one sofa whilst Mason sat in the armchair, Nathalie perched quite comfortably on the arm (sometimes it pays to be quite small).

Damon waved his hands frustrated, turning back to the drawing once he shot down everyone's suggestions. 'No, no!'

'A dog! A hound-dog!'

'Dances with Wolves,' Mason said boredly, smirking at Damon as he answered. Caroline, Alaric and Jenna all snapped their heads to look at him, whilst Nathalie raised an eyebrow.

'Mason wins. Again,' Damon smirked, giving the room a small bow as moved towards the kitchen.

Jenna scrunched up her nose, looking at the drawing. 'How is that a wolf?'

* * *

Nathalie looked around the room.

Damon, Elena and Jenna had disappeared off into the kitchen. Caroline and Alaric were talking amongst themselves, and Mason was still sat in the armchair. Pictionary had been put away, and after glancing at the clock, she realised that she would have to go soon if she wanted to get to the Burrow on time.

Her eyes zeroed in on Mason. He looked very uncomfortable, gingerly touching his side every once in a while and wincing just slightly whenever he leaned on the back of the chair. Damon had also been making wolf jokes and innuendos all night, and then it clicked.

She couldn't help but feel guilty when she thought about the damage she must have inflicted on Mason during their small scuffle a few nights previous, and he didn't even know it was her. She knew full well that wolves don't have control over themselves after their transformation, and his actions on a full moon wouldn't reflect who he truly was as a person. Nathalie couldn't bring herself to be annoyed at him for scaring the living daylights out of Caroline and Stefan – her mind flashed back to her third year at Hogwarts, when Remus had almost killed her, Ron, Hermione and Snape. She thought about the next day, and how unbelievably guilty he felt about hurting Sirius and trying to kill the students. She knew that the wolf side was entirely wild, bloodthirsty, sometimes even rabid – and that's not the human side's fault.

Slowly, she made her way towards him and perched gently on the arm of his chair. He looked up at her and gave her a small but slightly confused smile. She grinned back.

'Are you alright?' she said, putting a small hand on his shoulder. His eyes darted towards it, taking in the designs of each ring she wore before answering.

'I'm fine,' he said, although it seemed almost like a question.

'When did you trigger the gene?' she said casually, and he almost choked on his own breath.

'What?' he sputtered, unsure about what he just heard. Did it mean that she knew what he was? How would she even know? She had said to him that she only arrived days after his brother's passing, and yet here she was with knowledge of the Lockwood family's darkest secret.

'I'm not judging you,' she said gently, raising her hands defensively. 'I'm just curious.'

'Why?' he said, narrowing his eyes. He subconsciously noted that his wolf had not raised its hackles at being questioned so personally – under normal circumstances, it would have snapped.

'My uncle was a werewolf,' she shrugged.

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating that information. Did that mean that she carried the gene too?

'About five or six years,' he said quietly. Nathalie hummed.

'Well, let me know if I can do anything,' she smiled, standing up. 'Be careful around here.'

She turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving a gobsmacked Lockwood in her wake.

* * *

George had outdone himself with the decorating.

True to her word, Nathalie pretended that she'd forgotten Ron's birthday. So had everybody else and according to Hermione, Ron had been decidedly grumpy and standoffish because of it. Maybe she shouldn't find so much amusement in her best friend's suffering, considering his feelings were actually hurt but it's not like they had _actually_ forgotten his birthday. Plus, it was Ron – _everything_ was funnier when it came to Ron.

George had set up yet another marquee in the back garden of the Burrow ('Do you _know_ how many gnomes I had to catapult over that fence yesterday?' he'd complained.) Inside, it reminded Nathalie of every wedding that had occurred at the Burrow, although the décor was much simpler. Maybe it was the marquee that made her think of weddings, but it was still a lovely set-up for his birthday.

It was very cosy. Gryffindor colours all around with soft, plush cushion piles scattered around the tent like small dens. There was a small area at the back next to some Muggle speakers George had enchanted to work without electricity reserved for dancing. Red tablecloths covered small, round tables with golden centrepieces that gently reflected the light of many white candles floating around the room. Each centrepiece had a circle of cupcakes, ranging in flavours from chocolate to vanilla and strawberry and above them floated small replicas of the Chudley Cannon players (Ron's favourite Quidditch team) so it looked like a small Quidditch match was being played above every table.

(She hoped they had cast a fireproof charm on the marquee.)

At the other end of the marquee was a huge table covered in food, ranging from Ron's favourite roast dinner bits like beef, gammon, chicken and lamb to coldcuts and finger sandwiches. There was even a cart full of Ron's favourite sweets, like pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs and liquorice wands. The plates where simple white ceramic, although they were larger than usual. Clearly, George remembered Ron's impressive appetite whilst he was planning.

Next to the buffet was a very, very large cake. Triple tiered, it was smothered in various kinds of chocolate and was Chudley Cannon themed, adorned with edible snitches, quaffles and even goal posts.

Nathalie smiled at the thought that had gone into the party before she decided to observe the guests.

Bill and Fleur were there, along with George and Angelina, Ginny and Neville, even Charlie and Percy (who brought his wife Audrey) had made it home for the celebrations. Molly was busy fussing over her various children whilst Arthur sat comfortably with a Firewhiskey in hand. Nathalie had been told that Hermione was under instruction to keep Ron distracted until eight o'clock - which was why neither had arrived yet.

Several other familiar faces were also there. Luna had brought her new boyfriend (his name escaped Nathalie but she was pretty sure he was the grandson of Newt Scamander), who was perfectly pleasant and seemed to be getting on with Charlie particularly well. Dean, Seamus, and Lee had also made it and were chatting to George near the buffet table. Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were stood with Angelina, all looking very giddy as they pointed at the miniature Quidditch figurines. Nathalie couldn't help but feel the joy swell in her chest at being home. It was a little disappointing that George had planned the party so late, though - it was past Teddy's bed time, and Andromeda had stayed home to watch him.

_'I'm afraid I must rush off, Jenna,' Nathalie chuckled, eyeing the drunken woman under her lashes. Jenna had her head rested comfortably on Ric's shoulder - whilst he was quite tipsy, he was nowhere near her level and sighed playfully at her state._

_'No!' Jenna said, frowning, slurring ever so slightly. 'So soon?!'_

_'I have somewhere I need to be,' Nathalie shrugged. 'I had a lovely time, though. Thank you for having me.'_

_'And what prior engagement would cause you to leave this lovely gathering so quickly?' Damon smirked, throwing his arm over Nathalie's shoulder. She scrunched her nose up in disgust, disliking being touched. 'Is my company not good enough for you, Miss Potter?'_

_She took his wrist in her hand and plucked his arm off her shoulder, shaking him off. Nose still crinkled, she raised an eyebrow. 'If it was just you in my company, Damon, I wouldn't have stayed long enough for you to even utter a 'hello'.'_

_Alaric and Jenna laughed - the latter almost cackling as Damon put his hand on his chest in mock hurt, his day ring gleaming in the light. 'Keep this up and you'll hurt my feelings, Nathalie!'_

_'I like you,' Jenna said decisively. 'Come round anytime. And bring more of that Firewhiskey, will you?'_

_Nathalie smiled and nodded. 'I'm not sure you'll want me to once you wake up with a hangover, Jenna.' Giving everyone a wave, she left the room. Her hand reached for the doorknob, and as if did, she felt the warm breath of someone breathing down her ear._

_'I'm watching you,' the voice said quietly, reverberating in her ear. 'You don't fool me.'_

_She didn't even flinch, much to his surprise. Damon was positive he was totally silent when he approached. A normal person would have jumped five feet in the air!_

_Nathalie smiled at him warmly, her eyes sharpening dangerously. 'Have fun doing that, Damon,' she said gently._

_Without another word, she walked out of the house and down the street towards her car. Damon stood there in shock, unsure of what to make of the girl. It wasn't until she had driven away that, for once, he didn't have the last word._

* * *

Nathalie shook her head at the memory. She wasn't about to let Damon make things more difficult for her. Not that she was concerned about him anyway, but she had moved to get away from drama, not to start more. She was hardly surprised though considering the first friend she'd made was a freshly turned vampire which was pretty extraordinary. Mystic Falls was definitely an extraordinary place; whether that was a good or bad thing was open to interpretation.

She would have to keep an eye on that one. He was far too suspicious for his own good.

'He's coming!' someone hissed, and Nathalie broke out of her reverie. 'Come on! Hurry up!'

Everyone gathered in front of the flap of the marquee, waiting for the guest of honor to arrive.

'I still don't understand what the bloody hell is going on, Hermione,' Ron grumbled. 'Why did I have to wear a tie to Sunday dinner? And why are we in the bloody garden?'

'Stop asking questions, Ronald,' Hermione snapped. Their voices were getting louder as the moments ticked by, and Nathalie wondered why Ron hadn't noticed a big marquee in the back garden of his childhood home yet.

As if reading her mind (he was probably just looking at how confused she was), George informed her rather proudly that they had cast a powerful disillusionment charm on the marquee and had told Hermione exactly where to find them. Nathalie nodded in understanding, unable to fight back the smile that overtook her face when she took in George's joy.

It reminded her so painfully of Fred.

'_Surprise!_' everyone shouted as the flap of the marquee was pulled open. She snorted at the sight - Hermione smiling smugly in the background as Ron turned white as a sheet.

'Bloody hell,' he breathed. 'And I thought you lot forgot!'

'We wouldn't forget our ole' Ronniekins!' George sang happily, bounding over and grabbing his brother in a headlock. 'Much more fun this way, don'tchya think?'

'Merlin,' Ron muttered, before grinning at the sight of everyone gathered for his birthday.

* * *

'So,' Percy said suggestively, nudging Nathalie's side suggestively, 'How's it going in your new town, eh? Met anyone _new_?'

It was always surprising to everyone how different Percy was when he was tipsy. He went from the biggest uptight stick-in-the-mud to a gossipy housewife, which Nat always found disconcerting.

She couldn't decide which side of Percy was more annoying.

'No,' Nathalie said shortly, throwing back her drink.

'Well,' he grinned, flinging his arm around her, 'There's still a Weasley brother available if you're interested.' He waved his drink in Charlie's direction, either unable to process or just flat out ignoring the fact that he was chucking the drink out of his cup in the process.

Nathalie closed her eyes. Count to ten, she thought - not long now until he would be too wasted to even function, let alone ask incredibly personal (and slightly painful) questions that she had no desire to talk to him about.

She couldn't deny that she saw Charlie as a very attractive man. The scars somehow made him much more appealing, and the fact that he was actually a very skilled Quidditch player made it even better.

Even the thought of moving on with the brother of her fiancée, though, was nauseating to her and she had to fight back the urge to punch Percy square in the jaw. It was getting progressively more difficult to do so.

If Percy was even remotely sober, he would have thanked the heavens that Kingsley Shacklebolt walked into the marquee at that moment - if he'd carried on running his mouth then no amount of magic would've been able to fix his teeth. Kingsley looked around the marquee. When he noticed Nathalie and her uncomfortable expression, he made his way towards her.

'Nathalie!' Kingsley said warmly, holding out his hand for her to shake. She took it firmly. 'Good to see you.'

'Good to see you too, Minister,' she replied, grinning at him (partially in relief). 'How are things going?'

Percy, at this point, had sat up straight as a board and his face had drained of all colour. It seemed that even drunken incoherence was not enough to squash out Percy's respect of the Ministry, especially under the leadership of Kingsley.

'_Sir_!' he said quickly, his voice several octaves higher than normal. 'Good to see you, sir!'

'No need to be so formal, Percy. We're at a party,' Kingsley smirked. He also found it amusing to see his uptight assistant so wasted. 'Would you excuse us for a moment, Percy? I need a quick word with Nathalie here.'

'Yes!' Percy scrambled from his seat, almost falling off it in the process. 'Yes, of course, Minister!'

'Wow,' Nathalie remarked, eyebrow raised. Her and Kingsley shared a laugh at the flustered redhead as he tried to find something else to amuse himself with, scuttling off towards Audrey who simply rolled her eyes at him before shoving a glass of water at him. Kingsley took Percy's old seat next to Nathalie.

'How's America treating you?' Kingsley said, reaching for a cupcake. 'Finding a bit of peace?'

'Not particularly,' she replied airly, picking apart her own cupcake and eating each piece slowly. 'It's a very dramatic town.'

'Oh?' Kingsley said in surprise. 'I thought the concentration of witches were in Massachusetts.'

'They are,' Nathalie nodded, popping another piece in her mouth. 'It's mainly things like vampires and werewolves.'

Kingsley's forehead creased in surprise. 'Well,' he said. 'As long as you're looking out for yourself.'

She gave him a very cheeky grin. 'Of course I am. Have you no faith, _Minister?_'

He chuckled in response. 'Of course I do, Nathalie, but I think our entire community would like it if you lived to see another day.'

She nodded and raised her glass in salute. 'Me too.'

'I'm not actually here to speak to you about your relocation, however,' he said, his tone suddenly serious. He leaned towards her, voice lowered. 'I'm afraid we're having some trouble.'

'What now?' Nathalie sighed, her voice also quiet.

'Nothing that requires you to return, Nathalie,' he said. 'I do, however, need to warn you that we've had several uprisings within the walls of Azkaban recently. With the removal of the dementors, keeping control of the prisoners have been significantly more difficult than before.'

'And what's that got to do with me?'

'I'm telling you to keep a sharp eye open,' he seriously, eyes trained onto hers. 'We haven't caught all of the death eaters yet. The death of Voldemort doesn't mean that the notion of blood purity has been stamped out - if anything, they may be more reckless because they no longer have any leadership or anyone to reign them in. Several prisoners have attempted to break out, and I'm ashamed to say that a one or two almost succeeded. We've had to send several guards to St. Mungo's, particularly in the last few months and I'm warning you now to be aware of anything that happens around you. If any of them end up getting out, you know exactly who will be their first target.'

'Me,' Nathalie sighed, throwing her drink back. 'Always me.'

Her phone buzzed on the table, drawing the attention of several wizards, including Mr. Weasley. Kingsley glanced down at the message she received, whilst Mr. Weasley started making his way towards them, eyes alight with questions.

'Caroline,' she said under her breath, reading the message with concern.

'You still can't find it in you to turn down people in need?' Kingsley asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

'Apparently not,' she replied, one side of her mouth turned upwards in a half-smile as she opened the message she was sent.

She sighed. Wordlessly, Kingsley stood up and gave her a parting smile and nod. Mr. Weasley promptly sat himself down in Kingsley's place and grabbed the phone out of her hands.

'So clever, those Muggles!' he said cheerfully. 'Tell me, is this one of their new portable selly-phones?'

* * *

_Sorry it took so long!  
Real life took priority, &amp; this chapter wasn't very easy to write &amp; I'm not very happy with it. However, I can only rewrite something so many times.  
Thank you for the favourites/follows.  
Don't forget to leave a review, though! I love ideas and feedback._


	6. The Creature Collection: Vampire Edition

**rewrite date: 3rd of april, 2016****  
****view outfits: fairycastles at polyvore (moving on collection)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Mason ran his hand through his hair, staring at the sky above him. It seemed particularly dark tonight, despite the stars gleaming at him in their thousands all those miles above him. The moon, the complete bane of his existence and the cause for every bad thing in his life, was a mere sliver, peeking out just slightly from the shadow of the earth. He couldn't help but glare at it. Such beauty, such _power_, and he loathed it with every fibre of his being. Who the hell thought it was necessary to create werewolves? What could the reasoning behind that _possibly_ be?

What kind of good came from being a werewolf?

There were no words to describe the pain of turning. It was never just a one-night event either; a period of recovery was always necessary. He supposed that was part of the package, seeing as every bone in his body broke and every muscle basically regenerated in order to turn his body into a wolf.

He dropped his hand to his side, wincing as it jolted the muscles in his back. For whatever reason, his wounds were taking much longer to heal than normal. The skin had knitted together finally after a day or two, but it was still red raw and an angry red that ached to touch. Even now, he had no idea what inflicted the damage. He never remembered the transformations and he'd been shot at a good few times, but he'd never had injuries like that before. But as annoying as the pain was, he was quite glad that _he_ was the one who was injured; he was happy that, when he woke up, the only blood he was covered in was his own. That wasn't often the case; Mason had long lost count how many times he'd torn a camp (and the people at those camps) to shreds when he was a wolf. So far, there had been no reports of dead bodies or animal attacks. Maybe he'd got lucky, and something had put him down before he had the chance to do something dangerous.

Rather successfully put him down, he thought. The six, angry slashes on his back was clear evidence of that.

And to think he'd only come back because his brother passed away. Barely a fortnight had gone past and already everyone's minds were elsewhere, including his own. By no means was he close to Richard anymore (they hadn't been close for several years) and they were almost, if not entirely estranged from each other by this point. In all honesty, his dead made no big impact to his day-to-day life; he'd done (pretty much) just fine on his own.

But then he would feel inexplicably guilty because he should've really cared more that his brother was dead.

He thought back to his first encounter with Nathalie, and then at the Gilbert household just hours previous. It had been a long time since his wolf had been that calm. It almost felt like he hadn't activated the gene, and he wanted that feeling back. He craved it. But that feeling only occurred around a particular brunette.

The image of her burned brightly in his mind. It should be illegal for a woman to be that striking, with her inky, obsidian waves and piercing emerald green eyes set on that angular, pale face. She was all jawline and cheekbones all encased in a totally blemish-free complexion (apart from that weirdly shaped scar on her forehead, but that scar was pretty faint anyway). The rest of her was all soft curves, a lovely hourglass silhouette that was always dressed in simple but clearly expensive clothing. He knew she was unusual, but he couldn't fathom why she had such an effect on his wolf.

Again, he focused on the sky. The crescent moon seemed to mock him, reminding him of the reason why he _actually_ decided to stay in Mystic Falls. He would never admit this out loud (probably be cause he was too ashamed to do so), but he didn't stay in town to offer support to his family. His reasoning was much more selfish, which was okay because it's not like they're used to him being around anyway. They didn't really need him..

He did need that moonstone. How unfair it was that in all the years he'd been a wolf, the key to breaking that curse was right under his nose. In his childhood home. He'd even _played_ with it as a child. To think he had spent the last several years trying to avoid the exact place that he needed to be.

He winced at the shooting pain in his back.

Was it really worth it?

The transformations weren't as bad as they used to be. Mason even had evidence of it; if he looked at the footage from his second transformation and compared it to more recent ones, his reactions were nowhere near as severe. Of course the pain was still quite unbearable and he happily wished for death every full moon, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the first time. But since he'd been back he'd already been almost fatally wounded plus he'd painted a target on his back for vampires (who were several decades older than him and significantly more powerful) to hunt him down. The only reason why he was still alive was because they hadn't tried harder to kill him. He knew that he was only alive because they were curious about him. Unless they came to him during a full moon when he had the speed, strength and bite to kill them (which he knew they wouldn't, because who would be that stupid?), he had no chance. They had decades on him and much more practice at murder to boot.

He tried to ignore the helplessness that was making breathing significantly more difficult.

Was it worth it?

He thought about Katherine. Her unbelieveably soft curls, her lips beneath his and that confident smirk that went straight to his head.

Yes, he thought. It was worth it.

Because it's what Katherine wanted.

* * *

What was her opinion on Nathalie Potter?

Honestly, Elena had no idea.

Elena used to be just like her. She used to have the same charismatic confidence. She was just as beautiful as Nathalie and it had always been effortless for her. Everyone loved her. She was a cheerleader, she was kind and considerate, she had a relationship that everybody envied. That is, before her parents died. Now, a pretty girl that Elena would (begrudgingly) admit was quite nice had walked into her life and gelled with the few people important to her. Jenna adored Nathalie. Alaric enjoyed Nathalie's company. Stefan wasn't against shooting a smile Nathalie's way whenever he saw her, which was weird because he was usually the most cautious out of everyone. Caroline in particular seemed closer to Nathalie than she was Elena nowadays (which made her tickle a little bit but she wouldn't admit that out loud).

Nathalie threatened her, and she didn't like that.

Elena used to be untouchable. It irked her massively that she could get under her skin, without even _trying_. Nathalie had no reason to annoy Elena and yet she did anyway. A rational, relaxed Elena would never question Stefan's motives if he were talking to another girl because she trusted him (she _did_ trust him; she just didn't trust Nathalie) and she really had no reason to doubt him because he clearly loved her. Even Matt still loved her, and he was nowhere near Stefan in calibre. Common sense told her that there was absolutely nothing to worry about and that the girl was actually quite nice.

Every other side of her was not a fan.

She realised with a jolt that, even though Mystic Falls had been thrown into chaos, she was still prioritising her feelings about her boyfriend and love life above all else.

Funny how love worked.

Caroline had just been turned into a vampire. Bonnie was clearly having an identity crisis and was barely speaking to any of them. Damon was.. well, Damon; he was always a pain in the backside and lets just glaze over the fact that he tried to kill one of her best friends just a few nights before. Matt was drowning in his own problems and shouldering far more responsibility than was fair and Tyler was potentially a werewolf. On a wider scale, the Mayor had just been murdered along with all the tomb vampires and Katherine was back in town, ready to raise all nine levels of hell.

And Elena was most worried about Nathalie or Katherine making a move on her boyfriend.

She shook her head in frustration, trying to block out those thoughts and focus on the important stuff. She was even annoying herself, for Goodness sake.

Shutting her closet door, she jumped when she saw the very object of her thoughts standing right behind her, a small smile on his face. She placed her hand to her chest, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She shook her head again.

Stefan's eyes gleamed with mirth. 'Sorry,' he tilted his head. 'I didn't mean to scare you.' An amused smirk lit up his usually impassive face.

She smiled softly at him, leaning in for a kiss, which he received happily. 'Hi.'

'Hey,' he said in return, his tone gentle. He reached for her and pulled her into a firm embrace which she gladly leaned into, inhaling his scent and finding comfort in the safety of his arms.

'Are you ready for today?' he pulled back slightly, eyes searching hers for any sign of sadness or discomfort. To his displeasure, he found plenty of both.

'No,' she said grumpily, unable to keep the small pout off of her face. 'I hate fighting with you, even if it's fake.'

'I know,' Stefan sighed, his usual frown making its way back to his face. 'But if Katherine thinks that we're fighting, then she'll think that she's winning and it keeps her from following through with her threats.' His tone was patient. He sounded calming, and almost condescending. His goal, however, was to placate her. A task that was surprisingly difficult to achieve.

'Yeah,' Elena sighed resignedly, her brows creased unhappily. 'But it doesn't make it any easier. Neither does knowing that Caroline will be there, probably with Nathalie, reporting everything back to her. What if Nathalie's with Katherine?'

Stefan shook his head, unable to completely ignore the annoyance at seeing Elena so stressed - annoyance that wasn't directed or caused by her, but because of the situation at hand and the primary instigator of their difficulties. 'Hey, everything's gonna be okay,' he said comfortingly. 'Yes, we have to keep up this ruse for a while, but it's the best way to keep Katherine from hurting anybody.' He took her face between his hands, making her look into his eyes. 'From hurting you.' Stefan tried to put as much truth and comfort in his eyes.

'Just promise me that she won't get her way with us,' Elena pleaded. She knew it sounded a bit pathetic, being so desperate to keep him to herself. She knew she was begging. 'We can fake a fight, we can pretend that her threats are tearing us apart but none of it is real. Okay?' Elena couldn't remember the last time she had felt so reliant on a promise.

'Don't worry, Elena,' he said softly. 'Nathalie is working on it. She's going to help Caroline.'

'Nathalie knows? About _Katherine_?' Elena pulled away, her face showing nothing but shock. 'How much does she actually know? Christ, Stefan!' Her voice was steadily increasing in octave. Discomfort swirled in her chest as a flurry of emotion flashed behind her eyes. He quickly realised he'd said precisely the wrong thing.

'It's okay, Elena,' Stefan was quick to reassure her. Again he took her face in his hand, his other arm wrapping firmly around her. She stared up into his eyes searchingly, uncertainty being the primary emotion gleaming from her chocolate brown orbs. 'How about this? Today, when we're fighting, if I say 'I can't do this anymore, Elena', what I'll really mean is that I love you. Because you know I do.'

She relaxed slightly as his words sunk in. She couldn't help but smile at his sweetness and she cursed every higher power that decided she would be stuck in this situation with him when all she wanted was to be happy. 'And when I say 'Fine Stefan, whatever',' she put her hand on top of the one resting on her cheek, squeezing it gently. 'Well that means I love you too.'

Stefan placed another loving kiss on her lips.

And, finally, she'd been placated.

* * *

Nathalie stared at the hallway in front of her, stomach filled with dread. She had tried to avoid coming back here, unsure of whether she would be able to cope. To her dismay, the Potter archives she stored in her loft and her Gringott's vault didn't have the information she was looking for which meant she had to look at the next thing.

The Black archives.

The collection was smaller now than it had been, considering she'd asked Kreacher to move a fair amount of it into her own collection of works so she didn't have to go back to Grimmauld Place. None of the ones she'd taken to Mystic Falls were of any help either.

The last time she'd seen number 12 squeeze into existence between number 11 and 13 was almost two years ago, and it brought back a strange feeling of nostalgia and dread. Maybe she wasn't ready to come back. Maybe she _shouldn't_ have come back.

It was too late for that though. She took a deep, shaking breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart. The library had been built up over centuries, housing the most obscure texts in the Wizarding World; _surely_ something would've been useful. She desperately hoped so, otherwise this visit (or emotional rollercoaster) would've been for nothing.

The doorway looked exactly the same. Significantly dustier perhaps, now that Kreacher didn't live there (not that he did a great job cleaning in the first place). The wallpaper was still peeling and the carpet was still as thin as before. The curtain that hung over the portrait of Walburga Black was still as moth-bitten as ever – she'd stayed surprisingly quiet as Nathalie approached, but she still carefully walked around the troll-leg umbrella stand just in case Walburga decided to make herself known again. She vaguely recalled the amount of times Tonks had tripped over that bloody thing and fought back a chuckle as she successfully manoeuvred it. As she walked past the dining room she glanced in, and noted that all of Mrs Weasley's cleaning efforts six years previous had gone to nothing.

Thank Merlin she didn't have asthma.

Nathalie placed her petite hand on the bannister, retracting it just as quickly once she felt the dust clinging to her palms. She made her way to the second floor, trying desperately to ignore the row of shrunken elf heads and failing miserably.

* * *

_Kreacher was staring at the mounted heads of his ancestors, a gleam of admiration in his eyes. They seemed to give him some form of strange happiness, which made Nathalie shudder._

_'Kreacher,' Nathalie placed her hand on his head gently, a soft smile on her face. Kreacher's eyes pulled away from the gruesome decorations and looked at his master._ _'Is this where you want to be after you pass away?' she enquired. _

_He looked downtrodden. 'Only house-elves in service to the noble house of Black may have the honour of being here, Mistress,' he croaked. 'Kreacher is no longer in service to the noble house of Black.'_

_Nathalie frowned. She couldn't understand what the appeal of being decapitated, stuffed and mounted on the wall was, but he clearly wanted that to happen. And, she supposed, it was something he deserved considering he'd lived his life believing this to be the highest honour he could receive. If he believed that he couldn't get that honour anymore, it must have been pretty awful to live with. 'Well, this is my house,' she pondered, looking at the heads (mildly distainfully). 'If this wall is where you want to be, then one day, that's where you'll be.'_

_Looks like the heads were there to stay. Joy._

_She'd never seen such joy on the old creature's face. The wide grin melted years off his fragile frame as he stood as straight as he possibly could, staring at his Master with wide eyes._

_'Mistress,' he breathed, unable to say much more. Instead, he launched his bony frame towards her, attacking his mistress in a bone-crushing hug. She grunted as the win rushed out of her lungs (it was the first hug he'd ever given her), his reaction taking her completely by surprise._

_Her eyes softened as he buried his head in her stomach. She could feel the tears dampening her shirt. Again, she placed her hand on his head affectionately as he continued to sob, unable to do much else._

* * *

Those heads still creeped her out.

She jumped slightly as a floorboard creaked particularly loudly. Nathalie felt a little guilty that the house had fallen into this state again, considering how much effort everyone had put into making it more habitable again. It was a shame it had turned into such a dump, because beyond the grime, peeling wallpaper and unidentifiable odours, it was clear that the house was one of grandeur once upon a time. Even if Sirius hated his childhood home, it was still a gift to her _from Sirius_ and she should be looking after it better. Maybe she would get some work done on the house. Whether she kept it or not, _she_ wouldn't live in a house like that and if it stayed that way she wouldn't be able to sell it either.

A couple more floors and a few hallways later, she was stood in the library – and it was massive.

The bookshelves were almost two storeys tall, made out of old (clearly expensive) ebony that was once highly shined and polished. Each bookshelf had a large, sliding ladder attached to it which reminded Nathalie of the film _Beauty and the Beast_. The carpet in the centre of the room was once a rich emerald colour, but it'd faded into a strange, dusty green, and around it were three worn out green armchairs that looked like they'd not been sat on in decades. In the far corner away from the door was a small alcove and window where a visitor would be able to read in the sunlight. Well, it would've been nice, if the cushions and blankets weren't so moth-bitten and tattered.

A thick coating of dust lay on every surface of the room, which tickled Nathalie's nostrils. She waved her hand, casting a silent _Scourgify_ in hopes of cleaning it up a bit, but it didn't make much of a difference. She headed straight for the section at the back, where the slightly darker (perhaps even slightly illegal) works were kept.

She had to start somewhere.

Her eyes danced across the spines of the books, unsure of what she was looking for in particular. When she found a title that was somewhat relevant, she pulled it out and added it to a slowly growing pile in her arms. At the bottom right hand corner of the bookshelf, tucked between a couple of volumes that didn't sound like they were socially acceptable, was a tattered, paperback book. She raised an eyebrow and added it to her small pile.

The first book was useless, and she quickly threw it over her shoulder. The second and third book went the same way, and the pile of books behind her steadily grew. One or two stayed in her grip for longer, but they, too, joined the 'unhelpful' pile. Until she reached the paperback.

The colour had faded over the years and when she opened it, a cloud of dust threw in her face. She coughed, waving her hand in front of her face in a vain attempt of blowing the dust away. When she looked inside, though, her eyes lit up.

_**The Creature Collection: Vampire Edition  
The Encyclopaedic Guide to Vampires**__  
By Haemon Fang_

_Bound to darkness by a deadly aversion to the sun, vampires are creatures of the night, ruled by an undying thirst for blood; most commonly, human blood. Reports of said creatures appeared approximately eight hundred and fifty years ago and are widely known throughout the Wizarding community, although they have remained primarily a myth within Muggle society. Rumoured to be created by a Wiccan witch, wand-wielders commonly dispute this, arguing that Wiccans simply do not have the power necessary to create a new species. Their creation has been shrouded in myth and legend._

_This book is dedicated to educating witches and wizards on these creatures; their strengths, their weaknesses, as well as who and what to look out for in the event of a vampire making themselves known. This book will teach you everything you need to know._

Nathalie narrowed her eyes. She flipped through the pages, skimming over (surprisingly accurate) illustrations of them as well as their strengths and weaknesses. Vervain, sunlight – this was all stuff she'd learned from Lupin in Defence Against the Dark Arts back in third year.

'What's this?' she muttered.

_**The Sun and Moon Curse**_

_Said to be an ancient Aztec curse, the 'Sun and Moon Curse' tells the tale of an Aztec shaman, whose tribe was plagued by wolf-men and bloodsuckers. The combined strength of the two species was too much for the Muggles to handle, and many were being slaughtered. He allegedly cast a spell over these men, restricting their power to preserve his people. The wolf-men would only turn on a full moon, and the bloodsuckers would not be able to enter the homes of the tribes people without an invitation. Sunlight would burn them to ashes. He made the wolves 'servants of the moon', whilst vampires became 'slaves to the sun'._

_Wand-wielders have long disputed the existence of such a curse due to historical records that claim werewolves have always been 'servants of the moon'. No firm conclusion has been reached, because evidence of the curse can be found in ancient Muggle artifacts dating back many millennia (this disputes the argument that vampires were created in the eleventh century; please see page 52 for details). Nevertheless, rumours are abundant within the supernatural community regarding how to break this curse. A vampire, werewolf and Muggle blood sacrifice is required. The main component, however, is the moonstone._

_It is said to be the object that binds the curse together. One must take a witch and perform all three sacrifices beneath the light of the full moon, then pour the blood on the stone to destroy it. Despite uncertainty over its existence, werewolves and vampires aware of the curse are always on the lookout for the moonstone on the off chance that the curse may be real. Considering its highly magical properties, wand-wielders in the past have also dedicated their lives to finding it for research purposes._

Maybe she'd discounted the importance of the Black archives too soon. In one book, she'd learnt more about vampires outside of the magical community than she had in the last eight years. Not that the Sun and Moon curse was particularly important to her in that moment but it was interesting nonetheless. She stored it in the back of her mind for later; maybe it would be useful some other time.

She never turned down knowledge. Maybe it was a trait drilled into her from the war, or maybe it was from hanging out with Hermione too much but she found that seemingly insignificant things always popped up later on. If she'd paid attention to the locket she'd found in the cupboard back in fourth year in that very house, her whole Horcrux hunting journey would've been made significantly easier.

_**The Original Vampires**_

_The rumoured origins of vampires lie with just one family. A typical family with a mother, father, and five known children, stories indicate that their mother was the creator of the Wiccan Immortality spell that introduced vampires onto this earth._

_Legend has it that there was a mother who loved her children so much, she couldn't bare to lose them. After losing her youngest child to a werewolf, her grief was so great that she vowed to find a way to ensure her husband and children would never face death. The spell was cast, and the Original Vampires were born. They were impossibly fast, incredibly strong and had the power of 'compulsion' – the ability to bend other's wills to their whim. They were truly immortal; regular means of killing a vampire would not affect the Originals._

_Many witches, both Wiccan and Wand-Wielding, have searched for the rumoured Spell of Immortality. Its discovery would prove this theory of vampiric origin but, at the time of writing, no spell has been found. For more information on the vampires on current Ministry record, please turn to 178._

Nathalie wondered why this information wasn't taught at school. If vampires were truly created by a Wiccan witch, then surely that meant their power shouldn't be underestimated. Thinking about it now, if they were able to channel the magic around them, then they would potentially have an unlimited source of power at their fingertips and that was, quite frankly, dangerous. Surely the origins of vampires was important; even if they didn't cover it in Defence (which is understandable), why wasn't it covered in History of Magic?

Every student at Hogwarts learnt how to kill a vampire. Fire, a stake; it wasn't a secret how to kill them and any somewhat skilled witch or wizard should be able to at least incapacitate one even if they can't finish one off. As far as Nathalie knew, knowledge of their origins on the other hand was quite limited. And, if this book was accurate, then killing an Original vampire would be far more difficult than killing a regular one. Flipping to the front of the book, she glanced at the year of publishing.

_1739._

She raised an eyebrow mildly. Between her and Hermione, they had read many, _many_ books over the years between them. Some books only had a paragraph on the vampires; other volumes were several inches thick. None of them had any information on the Original family or other theories on how vampires were created. Nathalie vaguely remembered Hermione's voice droning on at her about a breach in the International Statute of Secrecy due to vampires in the 1740's sometime; that might explain why she'd not found this book sooner.

She shoved the book in her handbag and walked to the door, shaking her head as she did so.

* * *

It was time to put his plan into action. If it all worked out well, then maybe he would come out of it alive. Stefan's attempt at making a truce just irritated Mason more - did they really think he was stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice?

He felt almost insulted.

'Oh, thanks, Mason,' Liz Forbes said gratefully as he moved yet another box for her. It was the day of the Historical Society Picnic - yet another event to celebrate the togetherness of the community and an event to open yet another public park. Because Mystic Falls didn't have enough of those already.

Clearing his throat, Mason decided to get the ball rolling. 'Hey, Sheriff, you got a second?' His face was fixed into his most charming smile he could muster; the same charming, charismatic Lockwood smile that got his brother voted in for Mayor.

'I'm out of uniform,' Liz chuckled. 'Let's go with Liz.'

'Alright,' he nodded. 'I was hoping to talk to you about the council.' Not once did that smile drop off his face, although his voice did lower. He leaned closer to her as he spoke, daring to go as close as possible, riding the line between polite and invading her personal space.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she said defiantly. She made a move to walk away from him, suspicious of his intentions. She glanced at the children that were crowding around them, hoping to any God above that they didn't hear anything.

'I know you and the other founding families have a secret council.' Mason continued to push, refusing to let the subject go. His eyes held no amusement in them - instead, seriousness had taken over and Liz wasn't entirely sure that the expression suited him. 'My dad was in it, wasn't he?'

'If that were true, then you'd know it's a secret and isn't to be discussed with non-council members.' Her tone was firm, her authoritative Sheriff side making an appearance.

'I know I rejected all that, but it's only because I wanted a life outside of this town. Not because I was a non-believer,' Mason raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her. 'Look, I know vampires exist and you have two of them living right under your nose.'

She couldn't ignore that. Slowly, she turned her whole body to face him and eyed him critically. He'd only been back for a couple of weeks, and he'd already found vampires when they'd come up dry after months of investigation? She studied his face. It seemed genuine enough. 'Really?' she said cautiously.

'Yeah.'

'And who would they be?' she pressed, her tone just slightly condescending. Despite his look of sincerity, Liz wasn't entirely sure she believed him. She couldn't help the feeling of distrust in her. He had, after all, turned his back on Mystic Falls the first opportunity he had; why did he even care?

'Damon and Stefan Salvatore.'

She couldn't help but snort. 'That's impossible. I know Damon Salvatore.' She glared at him lightly. 'Do you know what he's done for this town?' Although the questions sounded rhetorical, they were not. He had no business butting into affairs that had nothing to do with him after choosing to walk away from the town, and she couldn't help but feel a little anger that he was throwing accusations her friend's way.

'I know it's a lot to digest.' He still sounded sincere. Maybe he was right? Doubt started to seep into her bones.

'No,' she denied. 'I watched him kill vampires. He's an ally. He's part of the council!'

'Think about it,' Mason urged, his tone almost pleading. 'When did the vampire attacks begin? When Damon and Stefan Salvatore moved to town?'

She couldn't understand why this was starting to make sense. They walk in the sun, they can't be vampires. 'They walk in the sun, Mason,' she said defiantly, trying hard not to let her apprehensiveness show.

'They've evolved!' Mason whispered harshly. 'It's not 1864 anymore. They figured it out, Liz.'

'No,' Liz shook her head. 'Damon Salvatore is my friend.' Her voice had fallen to a lower whisper, laced with uncertainty.

'What if I can prove it to you?'

Both turned their heads to the brothers, who were walking side-by-side, in the sunlight, just metres away.

* * *

Nathalie wasn't sure she liked such a gung-ho community.

Practically the entire town had been roped into helping with the setup of the new public park and, unfortunately, Nathalie was one of them because she'd decided to befriend the most obsessive-compulsive community planner in the town. She leaned against one of the posts holding up one of the new shelters, watching as people went by.

'Nat!' Caroline shouted her over, not noticing that Damon was fast approaching as well. The brunette sighed and tucked a loose curl behind her ear and pushed herself off the post. Damon arrived by Caroline's side before Nathalie did, much to the blonde's displeasure.

As she walked towards them, Elena walked straight past, not even once sparing Nathalie a glance. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to Caroline after nodding at Damon in greeting.

'What's her problem?' Nathalie didn't seem particularly bothered by the dismissal. Instead she was curious as to why she was rushing to Stefan, considering they were having 'relationship problems'.

'Don't worry about it,' Caroline waved dismissively. 'I didn't think you were coming, you weren't picking up earlier.'

'Eh, community isn't really my thing.' Nathalie turned her gaze back to the bickering couple. Damon, in an attempt to be subtle, drank her appearance in. (He wasn't actually being very subtle, because Nathalie could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face.) She wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt that fell off the shoulder and showed off just an inch of her belly and a pair of high-waist, very ripped mom jeans that were folded up to just an inch or two above her ankles. She wore simple, black flip-flops on her feet that showed off her matching mani/pedi. All of her usual jewellery was in place, and her signature pair of rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. It appeared that she hadn't bothered with make-up that day or even bothered doing much to her hair, which was under a black cap that she had on backwards. Her dark lashes and brows didn't need much more definition in all honesty, and her hair which fell down to the small of her back looked like it was supposed to be messy.

'Oh!' Nathalie seemed to remember something. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a blood-red lolly. Caroline's eyes lit up as she did so and grabbed it greedily from her hand, which had reached out towards the blonde.

For the first time, Damon was close enough to actually look at the girls up close in natural lighting. As she put her hand down, he noticed a very pale scar on the back of her hand – pale enough that Damon wouldn't have noticed it if they were inside.

_I must not tell lies_ was scrawled elegantly across the back of her hand. On the same arm was another pale scar that looked like it could have been some kind of bite mark, because there were two sets of identical markings. There were two large circles about an inch and a half apart. Next to each circle was another smaller circle. It was slightly brighter than the scar on her hand, and looked a little like a snake bite. He couldn't help but narrowed his eyes before bringing his focus back to her face.

She was staring him right in the eye. In the sun, her eyes were staggering. They truly shone like emeralds and they felt like they could read his soul. The girl challenged him with her eye game, that's for sure.

Then he noticed another scar, above her right eye, peeking out ever so slightly from beneath her cap.

It was even more faint than the one on her hand, and looked like it had been covered up extremely well. If it wasn't for his vision as a vampire, Damon had no doubt that he would have missed it entirely. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt, and his frown further increased.

'Found something interesting, Damon?' Nathalie said lightly, a soft smile on her face. The sound of her voice was enough to snap him out of his reverie, and his characteristic smirk returned to his face.

'I might have done,' he said airily, before turning to Caroline. 'Why are you being such a bitch to your mom?'

Caroline, lolly firmly stuck in her mouth, glared at him lightly before a mocking smile appeared on her face. 'Don't worry about it.' She turned away from Damon and went carried on painting the post, none-too-subtly eavesdropping on Elena and Stefan's conversation and leaving the two brunettes to stare on.

* * *

'Do you still care about Katherine?' Elena demanded, hand on her hip. At this point, Damon and Caroline had turned away and pretended to be busy doing something. Nathalie, on the other hand, had leaned on the small table holding all of the paint supplies and was freely looking at the couple.

'Don't do this,' Stefan said, crossing his arms across his chest and sighing exasperatedly. 'Please don't turn this into something that it's not.'

'So, this is not for discussion,' Elena said mockingly. 'That's what you're saying?'

'No, I'm saying this isn't up for discussion right now because we have ears on us.' Stefan rocked slightly on the balls of his feet as Elena cast her eyes towards Damon, Caroline and Nathalie. The two vampires tried even harder to make it look like they weren't eavesdropping, whilst Nathalie just smiled at her. Elena couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved at the sight of the girl staring her down.

'Okay,' Elena shook off the feeling and turned back to Stefan. 'When?'

He shrugged in response. 'I don't know.'

'I saw her, Stefan,' Elena pushed, her voice rising hotly. It's like we're the same person. How could you hate her and be in love with me?' She blinked up at him angrily, glaring at him.

'You're reaching.' Stefan seemed to stumble across his next words, looking slightly uncomfortable. 'I'm not.. I'm not Damon.'

Elena breathed out loudly, frustration screaming from her entire being. 'How about we don't bring Damon into this right now?'

Stefan closed his eyes for a moment. 'You know, I can't,' he said slowly, tilting his head. 'I can't do this anymore, Elena,'

Her eyes lowered to the ground. 'Fine, Stefan,' she breathed, her voice quiet. She then looked up at him, staring right into his eyes for just a few moments. 'Whatever.'

Under the gazebo, Damon and Caroline had dropped all pretence of not eavesdropping and were looking at the couple openly. 'Relationships are about communication,' Damon said mockingly as he watched Elena storm away from his brother. Caroline shot him a look and took off after Elena, shoving her paintbrush in Nathalie's hand as she did so.

Nathalie's expression was completely impassive, save for the raised eyebrow. She had to say, they put on a very convincing performance in her opinion. If it hadn't been for that long, meaningful look they shared at the end then she might've been fooled. Looking down at the paintbrush in her hand, she blew a raspberry and squeezed the bridge of her nose, rubbing just below where her glasses sat.

'What the bloody hell am I doing here?' she muttered under her breath, dropping the paintbrush on the table. With that, she spun on her heel and walked away, leaving Damon staring at her in her wake.

* * *

Nathalie leaned against the sign that said 'Mystic Falls Park' at the entrance to the park, just observing. Elena and Caroline were together. Mason had just walked away from Damon and Stefan. She watched as a little girl approached Damon, handing him a glass of lemonade. She watched with narrowed eyes as he seemed to choke on it, clutching at his throat. She watched as a blonde woman stared on, horrified. She watched as the woman picked up the phone and made her way towards the entrance, passing Caroline as she did so. She watched as Caroline spoke to the woman, annoyance clearly on her face. She watched the lady apologise, and then she pushed herself off the sign. Putting her hands in her pockets, she walked towards the blonde who was staring after the woman questioningly.

'Alright?' Nat said casually, reaching Caroline just before Elena did.

'What's going on?' Elena asked, staring between the blonde woman and Caroline.

Caroline was frowning. Sadly, it was an expression that was more and more common upon the blonde's face. 'I don't know,' she said gently, and Nathalie tilted her head questioningly. 'Something's up.'

'And you don't know what.' Nathalie took Caroline's silence as confirmation before she continued. 'Well?'

Elena and Caroline looked at her, unsure as to what she was saying. Nathalie sighed. 'Aren't you going to go find out?'

'Yes?' Caroline said uncertainly, before her resolve seemed to harden. 'Yes. Come on.'

Caroline took off in the direction of the woods. Elena scurried after her, her curious nature not letting her pass up such an opportunity and Nathalie looked sadly at her feet.

'I shouldn't have worn flip-flops,' she said sadly, before she followed the two girls.

* * *

'Where are you going?' Elena asked. 'What's going on?' Her breath was ragged as they climbed onto higher ground. Nathalie was brought back to when her and Hermione camped out in the Forest of Dean, and chuckled lightly to herself. Maybe she should try avoiding getting herself into sticky situations, and just embrace it.

'I need to be able to hear better.' Caroline was distracted, staring out at the park and looking for something, anything, that would clue her in on what was going on.

'Hear what?' Elena prodded, as Nathalie leaned against a tree.

'Something's wrong, Elena,' Caroline said shortly, her tone taking on just a hint of frustration.

'Caroline-'

'Shush!' Caroline said harshly, closing her eyes and straining to hear. Just a minute passed, and all three girls heard the sound of gunshots.

She spun around in panic. 'Oh God,' Caroline breathed.

'What is it?'

'Stefan and Damon,' she said.

'What?' Elena gasped. The two took off, and Nathalie sighed again. She was not prepared for this amount of exercise today. As they started running, Nathalie continued to walk at a leisurely pace behind them.

It didn't take them long to find what they were looking for.

'What are you two doing out here?' He looked very physically imposing. Confidence rolled off him in waves as he stared at the girls, his inner wolf fuelling his bravado.

Elena glared at him, her fists tightening by her sides. 'Have you seen Stefan?'

Mason hummed, a sly grin on his face. 'Yeah, Elena, I've seen him,' he said mockingly. 'Seen Damon too.'

'Where are they?' she demanded hotly, anger laced in her voice.

'You don't need me for that,' he said dismissively, waving his hand in Caroline's direction. 'I'll let your friend here sniff them out.' He stared Caroline down, tilting his head. 'Does your mother know what you are?' he grinned spitefully. 'I'm happy to tell her.'

Caroline prepared to launch herself at him, and almost did so, until he grabbed Elena and wrapped his arm firmly around her neck, ready to break it at any moment's notice.

'Don't be stupid!' he snarled. 'Necks snap easy around here.'

'I can take you,' Caroline said confidently, her normally soft blue eyes turning to chips of ice as she stared him down.

'Wanna bet?' he chuckled as his tightened his hold further.

'Yeah,' she breathed. 'I do.'

Caroline sped towards him, catching by his arm and ripping him away from Elena. Not a second later, she had her hand wrapped firmly around his neck, pinning him against a nearby tree.

'I told you,' she said in the same mocking tone he had used on the two girls just moment previous.

Caroline kicked him in the leg, just shy of his family jewels and Mason choked in pain. She used her grip on his neck to throw him onto the ground, landing another firm kick in his stomach that launched him against another tree. A crack echoed through the woods as his spine took the brunt of the damage, and Mason lay immobilised on the ground, moaning in pain.

'Come on,' Caroline said, sparing him one last glance before she took off. Elena quickly followed her.

As he lay on the ground, he tried to realign himself so his back would heal quicker. When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, he saw a set of pale, manicured feet in front of him and he strained to look up. Nathalie stared down at him; the usual warmth in her eyes was gone and he couldn't help but cower slightly at the completely blank look on her face. His wolf whimpered in distaste, and seemed to curl up into a ball within his being.

He was expecting a tongue-lashing, but her blank expression never morphed into anything else and Mason couldn't help but feel like that was _worse_. He felt like he had fucked up, big time and his wolf snivelled at the waves of displeasure rolling off her.

She stepped over his head and started for the direction Caroline and Elena had run off in just minutes before. Mason Lockwood was left on the floor of the woods, lying in pain, the feeling of discomfort seared into his consciousness.

* * *

Those stairs clearly lead to a place she probably had no business being in. Her shoes were ruined, and when she woke up that morning, a long hike had been the last thing she thought she'd be doing that day.

Nathalie rubbed her face, frowning when she saw the minimal amount of concealer she had applied to her scar rub off onto her fingers. Deciding that at that moment, she didn't particularly care, she walked down the steps and eventually came to what looked like a prison cell. It smelled damp and it was annoyingly dark. She kept walking anyway, debating whether to cast _lumos_ so that navigating the way would be easier but before long, she heard voices coming from a lit area at the end of the path.

She heard Damon first. 'You need to drink some deputy blood,' he said dryly.

A gate stood between her and the crowd gathered in the cell, which she pushed open unceremoniously.

Two men lay dead on the ground, blood pooling around their necks and she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness because they died unnecessarily. She saw Stefan being propped up by Elena who was trying to comfort him as blood seeped from the bullet wounds in his torso. Damon was standing unsteadily, blood staining both sides of his jeans. Each and every one of them were looking at her.

'No, I'm gonna be fine,' Stefan said uneasily. 'It's just gonna take a little bit longer.'

'Damon's right you know,' Caroline said softly. 'If there's ever time to break your diet-'

Elena spun to look at Caroline and Damon. 'He said he didn't want it, okay?' she snapped harshly.

Wordlessly, Nathalie walked into the room and pulled out a blood-red lolly from her back pocket. She threw it on the ground in front of Stefan, who looked at her questioningly. 'Eat,' she said firmly. 'You'll feel better.' Reaching into her pocket again, she pulled out another one and offered it to Caroline. 'Do you want it? It's the last one. I need to go buy some more.'

'Give it to Stefan,' she said gently. 'He needs it more than I do.'

Nathalie threw it at Caroline anyway, and it bounced straight off the blonde's forehead. She stared at Nathalie in surprise.

'Get the taste of deputy out of your mouth.'

Each member of the room, apart from Caroline and Nathalie, looked on in wonder as Stefan started breathing easier.

'Are you one of them too?' Liz breathed.

Nathalie cocked her head at the deputy, placing her hands back in her pockets. 'No,' she said shortly, moving towards Caroline. She sat next to the blonde and leaned her head on Caroline's shoulder.

'What did you just give me?' Stefan said questioningly as he felt his wounds beginning to knit back together. She simply shrugged, a playful smirk on her face.

'This is a most unfortunate situation,' Damon said dryly, tearing his eyes away from the brunette. 'Two deputies dead, and you.' He limped towards the Sheriff, getting right up to her face, staring her down and causing her breathing and heart rate to speed up far too rapidly to be healthy. 'What am I gonna do with you? Look, we've even got a witness!' He waved his hand dramatically in Nathalie's direction.

'You won't tell anyone, will you? Mom?' Caroline pleaded. 'Mom, please. Look, I know that we don't get along and that you hate me and you hate me but I'm your daughter and you'll do this for me, right?' Her voice had gone from pleading to desperate. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Nathalie took Caroline's larger hand in her own smaller one and gave it a tight squeeze. 'Mom, please. He'll kill you!'

'Then kill me,' Liz cried, her own tears beginning to blur her vision. She ignored her daughter's pleas, staring right a Damon. 'I can't take this. Kill me now!'

Damon narrowed his eyes at her. 'But you were going to drag it out so painfully.' Without warning, Damon grabbed her by her shirt, pulling her up even closer to him although it was anything but romantic. The threat was clear in his eyes, and Liz gasped in fear.

'No, no no!' Caroline cried, as Stefan and Elena joined in with their own pleas. Even Nathalie's eyes had narrowed as her eyes reached to her wand that was tucked in the back of her jeans.

'Relax, guys, no-one's killing anybody.' Damon said exasperatedly. He stared at Liz pointedly in the eye. 'You're my friend.' She had the good grace to look guilty, knowing that she had not offered him the benefit of the doubt despite the fact they were friends. Damon let her drop to the ground as he waved at the mess around him. 'We've got to clean this up.'

Nathalie felt Caroline squeeze her hand. It was a little too tight to be comfortable, but she didn't say anything.

'Come on, Caroline,' Nathalie said, standing up. She pulled the blonde up with the hand that was still firmly attached to her own, pulling her towards the gate and back to the darkness of the tunnel.

* * *

They walked in silence side-by-side deeper into the woods. Caroline hadn't said a word since they left that little prison, and Nathalie was more than happy to let her get her thoughts together. When they were a sufficient distance from the cellar, Nathalie held her hand out towards her friend and she took it. They both disappeared with a _pop!_, appearing in her own kitchen. Caroline moved towards the island and took a seat at one of the bar stools, staring down at the marble like it would give her the answers to everything. Nathalie pulled her wand out from the back of her jeans and pointed it at a mug which she had pulled out of the cupboard. Dropping a peppermint teabag into the cup, hot water streamed from her wand into the mug and she handed the freshly made tea to the blonde, who took it gratefully.

'What am I going to do?' she said quietly, ignoring the burning sensation on her palms as she clutched the mug.

'Some people need time to accept these things,' Nathalie shrugged, making her own cup of tea. She went with a classic English Breakfast tea, pulling milk from the fridge and dropping just a spoonful of sugar into it. She stirred it and took a seat opposite Caroline at the island, bringing it to her lips.

Camarin hopped up onto the island, looking between the two women. She seemed to observe Caroline quite carefully, sensing that something wasn't quite right. She jumped onto the barstool next to Caroline and made her way onto the vampire's lap, curling up into a purring fur ball in an attempt to provide some kind of comfort. Caroline couldn't stop the small smile that came to her face and she scratched it behind the ears, causing that weird purr to get significantly louder.

'Do you want to take Camarin home with you for a little bit?' Nathalie offered out of the blue. 'She's good company, you know.'

'She's your cat,' Caroline protested lightly. Camarin let out a displeased yowl at being called a cat, causing Caroline's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise and Nathalie to let out an amused chuckle.

'She doesn't like being called a cat. She's a kneazle.'

Deciding that it wasn't the moment for questions, Caroline simply accepted it. 'Sorry, Camarin,' she said gently, tickling the animal behind the ears once again. It seemed to placate her, because her purring resumed.

'I have Kreacher for company. If you ever want to take her home for a cuddle, you're more than welcome to.'

Caroline smiled at the brunette gratefully. Somehow, Nathalie knew how to comfort her without having to say that much. The feeling just seemed to come whenever they were together.

'Will you help me pack some things for my mom? The Salvatore's are probably going to detox her and compel her and I don't know how long that'll take.'

Nathalie nodded. 'Do you want me just to cast a memory charm?'

'That's alright,' Caroline said gently. 'Only Stefan and I know about you. If my mom forgets everything straight away then it'll just bring up questions for you, and I know you don't want that.' The brunette nodded in response, and both women enjoyed their tea quietly. Suddenly, Caroline seemed to remember something. 'Where were you this morning, anyway?'

She'd been waiting for that question. All day, she'd been thinking about that book she found at Grimmauld Place. It was still in her handbag just across the hall in the living room. Caroline had enough on her plate already, would telling her everything she'd learned that day be helpful to her? She had enough on her plate as it was. In all honesty, the majority of the information she had uncovered that morning had nothing to do with the situation at hand. So, she decided to stick to the bare basics. 'I went to my Godfather's house to see if there was any information on Katherine in his family archives.'

Caroline stared at her, not quite understanding. 'Why would there be any of that information?'

Nathalie shrugged. 'The library has collections of books, both legal and illegal, dating back centuries. I thought there might be something in there that would help you.'

'And is there?'

Nathalie shrugged. 'Maybe. I'm still working on it.'

* * *

'Why are you the one with the super strength and yet I'm the one carrying the bloody bag?' Nathalie muttered as they stepped into the Salvatore home. She hadn't been here before, and she couldn't help but admire the decor. It was antique looking and reminded her slightly of the Gryffindor common room, even though it wasn't as brightly lit and there wasn't nearly as much red and gold.

Elena closed the door behind the two girls. 'Sorry, that took forever,' Caroline said, ignoring Nathalie and smiling at Elena. 'I just didn't know how long my mom was gonna be here.'

'Damon says it'll take three days tops for the vervain to leave her system. Maybe even sooner.' She nodded her greeting at Nathalie, who smiled at her in response. Caroline looked at Elena gratefully as Stefan joined the three girls. Without a word, Nathalie shoved the suitcase in his direction, which he took with a chuckle.

'Hey!' Caroline's voice was decidedly chirpy (and clearly fake). They decided to let it go, knowing just how much she must be hurting at that moment. 'You got some bunny in you?'

'Yeah, I'm feeling much better thank you,' Stefan nodded. He turned to Nathalie, who was still looking at the decorations, trying to take in every detail so she might be able to emulate it one day. 'That lolly helped a lot too. Thanks for that.'

'Anytime!' she said cheerfully, waving her hand dismissively. 'I don't eat them anyways.' It was quiet for a minute as Elena and Stefan tried to figure out precisely what to say. 'So,' Nathalie continued. 'Where's Mama Forbes?'

* * *

'It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's secure,' Damon said happily. 'Brought you a good thread count. And once the vervain has worked its way out of your system, I will compel you, and you will forget everything and you will be a free woman!' He watched as Liz took a seat on her bunk, eyes glazed over. Damon could hear four sets of footsteps coming closer to the cell.

'Can you keep Caroline far away from me please?' Liz said, her voice empty. 'I don't want to see her.'

Outside the cell, Caroline clutched onto Nathalie's hand as she heard what her mother was saying. Nathalie glared at the wall, seemingly trying to burn a hole through it into the Sheriff's head.

'She's your daughter, Liz,' Damon said quietly, sounding entirely serious for once in his life. He even sounded slightly angry her, which surprised everyone outside.

'Not anymore. My daughter's gone.' She sounded completely sure of this. Not even an ounce of sadness. Instead, her voice was laced in hatred at what her daughter had - without her consent - become.

Damon could see Caroline standing just behind the wall. He looked at her sadly, as she stood frozen in place at her mother's words. She tried to fight off that feeling of utter hopelessness settling in her chest, gripping Nathalie's hand tightly as she did so. Any false pretence of happiness had disappeared from her being. Without a word, she spun on her heel and walked towards the stairs. Elena sped after her, followed by Stefan. Nathalie, on the other hand, was still rooted to the ground, counting to ten in her head so that she didn't lose her temper and do something she would later regret.

She walked into the little room and stood next to Damon as she stared Liz down. Damon could feel the tension rolling off her in waves, and he couldn't help but feel slightly tentative (if not curious) at what was about to happen.

Nathalie stared at Liz, expression completely devoid of emotion. She could not, for the life of her, understand why a parent would reject their child for something that was totally out of their control. She could feel a rage bubbling deep within her, an image of Voldemort seared into the back of her mind.

The Sheriff was starting to feel uncomfortable under Nathalie's steely emerald gaze, and she started shifting apprehensively as she struggled to maintain eye contact.

'Your daughter is an incredibly disciplined, kind soul,' she said softly, her eyes not losing their intensity once. 'She was turned, against her will, not two weeks ago by an incredibly dangerous vampire. Tell me, Sheriff, how did you not notice? Considering that you spend most of your free time hunting them down.'

Liz opened her mouth to respond, and Nathalie's eyes narrowed as she took a step forward. Liz flinched back as Damon stared at the girl. He had no doubt that Nathalie's racing heart wasn't out of fear, but anger.

'Wait a second,' Nathalie continued. 'You see, if you were more present in her life, you _would_ have noticed. So I think the fault really falls to you, Sheriff.'

'She's a vampire,' Liz snapped. 'You don't understand.'

'I bloody well understand just fine, thank you!' Nathalie retorted hotly. Damon could see a vein beginning to pop in her forehead, jumping with every heated word she spoke, despite the calmness of them. 'The day you give birth to that girl you were given the responsibility to love her, to care for her and to be there for her, _no matter what happens_. Your responsibilities do not change no matter what your personal feelings are. If you reject her because of an event out of her control, then you do not deserve the honour of being someone's mother.'

'She kills people!' Liz cried. 'Vampires are built to kill, and that's all they're good for!'

'You kill people!' Nathalie was trying desperately to hold onto her self-control. She was _fuming_. 'You had absolutely no problem trying to kill Damon and Stefan today, did you? Shooting them in the chest was totally okay, was it? And you _certainly_ had no problem drawing their deaths out _just because they are vampires_. You found out they were vampires one minute, and turned to kill them the next. The ease in in which you did that tells me that you've killed before. And you are _human_.'

Nathalie took one more step towards Liz and she brought her face just inches away from the Sheriff's. She continued on, as Liz stared at her with wide eyes. 'Your daughter has only killed one person due to her bloodlust. Your _immense_ knowledge on vampirism should tell you how incredibly _unheard of_ that is, especially for a newborn vampire. She's a far better person than you are, and you should have known that, because you should've been there for her as her _mother_. If you were there for her, then you would know how _proud_ of her you should be for dealing with the utter shite cards she's been dealt. In case you've forgotten, to become a vampire, you have to _die. _Your daughter was_ murdered_, but she's a vampire now, so let's just glaze over that particular detail because it's _clearly_ not bloody important anymore.'

With her hands clenched into fists by her sides, she spun on her heel and walked away from the duo. Liz was staring wide-eyed at the spot where the teenager had just been, and Damon was still trying to process exactly what had just happened. She was a spitfire, that one. Definitely a spitfire.

* * *

Nathalie rubbed her face gingerly as she tried to regain her composture. She knew one of her greatest ticks was her feelings about parents. Worst case scenario, unloved children turn into the next she couldn't stand watching anyone throw away the privilege of having a relationship with either their parents or their children because her own family was denied of it. She walked into the living room, where Elena and Caroline were sat together. Caroline looked extremely distressed as Elena tried to comfort her.

'I'm so scared of her Elena!' Caroline choked through her tears. 'I'm so scared of her.'

'And you should be,' Elena sighed. 'Caroline, we all should be.'

'Why is she doing this?' she said quietly, shaking her head. 'What does she want?'

'That's the million dollar question,' Elena said resignedly. Without another word, both girls leaned towards each other and embraced, and Nathalie couldn't help but smile at the tender moment. She missed Ron and Hermione, because despite her growing friendship with Caroline, she didn't quite understand yet and there was so much both of them had to learn about each other. Ron and Hermione understood Nathalie, just like Elena understood Caroline.

'You got quite passionate back there,' Damon said flatly as he appeared behind Nathalie. 'It wasn't something I would expect out of you, missy.'

Nathalie rubbed the bridge of her nose. She seemed to be doing that a lot today, she noticed. 'It irritates me when people's priorities are that backwards,' she said flatly. 'It irritates me when people take important things like that for granted.'

'I can see that,' Damon observed. They looked each other in the eyes, an ice blue clashing with a deep emerald green - two conflicting colours seemed to fight against one another until the stares calmed and they appeared to reach an understanding.

'I'm going to take Caroline home,' she said gently, turning away to look at the blonde. Elena had left the room it seemed, and Caroline was once again by herself.

'Is that a good idea?' Damon said dryly, knowing that she would have a visitor waiting for her. 'Miss Katherine will go find her, and then she'll find you. I'm not sure a girl like you would be able to handle her.' Damon's signature smirk was on his face as he mocked the brunette. She simply raised an eyebrow at him.

'Katherine won't be able to touch her at my house,' she said defiantly. 'At least she can't get _into_ my house.' Unexpectedly, he placed his hand on Nathalie's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She stared at him questioningly, unsure of what it was actually supposed to mean. He pulled his hand back and turned away, without another word.

Shaking her head, she walked into the room and held out her hand for Caroline to take. 'Come on,' she said soothingly, 'Let's go home.'

Caroline took her hand and the two disappeared with a _pop!_. By the time Damon had returned to the room to see exactly what that noise was, the two girls had disappeared. His eyebrows creased in confusion, because he was _sure_ he didn't hear the door open.

'Maybe it's just best if I stayed at the boarding house,' Caroline said uncertainly as Nathalie lead her up the stairs, their feet digging into the soft carpet. 'I mean, Katherine doesn't know you exist and she'll be waiting for me and everything.'

'She can't get to you in here,' she retorted, walking to the end of the hallway. When Caroline saw what was behind that door, she couldn't help but gasp. The guest bedroom was very large, considering it was a guest bedroom. At the centre of the back wall was a king-sized bed with an ornate, mahogany headboard and four pillows that looked remarkably soft. The duvet was plushy and covered in an emerald green sheet and there was a black furry blanket on the top that made the bed look more like a comfortable little nest than an actual bed. The back wall had a feature wall with a filigree design, the backdrop being black and the design itself being an emerald green that matched the sheets perfectly. A television hung from the wall in the top corner, and a large window was covered by thick, blackout, emerald green curtains. Camarin sauntered into the room behind the girls, jumping onto the foot of the bed and making herself comfortable. Caroline looked at Nathalie, who indicated for her to wait a minute as she rushed to a room opposite her own. Moments later, she reappeared with a pair of pyjama shorts and an old, baggy maroon jersey with 'POTTER' written on the back in gold, along with a number '7'. She handed those to Caroline.

'Do you want to go to sleep now?' she questioned. Caroline nodded slowly, slightly dreading being on her own although passing out sounded incredibly appealing. 'Alright.' Nathalie leaned towards the girl and caught her in an embrace, which Caroline gratefully returned. 'Let me know if you need anything, alright?'

She pulled away from Caroline and started walking towards her own room. After a second of deliberation, Caroline called out her name.

'I don't want this to sound weird, but.. I don't really want to be on my own.' She had curled into herself, holding the pyjamas against her tightly. Nathalie gave her a soft smile.

'You get changed,' she said gently. 'Come through when you're ready – feel free to use the bathroom if you need it.'

Caroline nodded. A couple of minutes later, she had changed into the remarkably comfortable clothes. She padded across the hall into Nathalie's bedroom – it looked very similar to the guest bedroom, but instead of green it was red and it had an extra door which Caroline assumed led to a walk-in closet. The TV was bigger and the feature wall was a blood red instead of filigree wallpaper. Nathalie had changed into her own pyjamas, which were plain, black sleep leggings and a vest that had a crest that said 'Hogwarts' on the left breast pocket. She had her wand tucked into the pocket of her leggings. She was holding a bag of sweet treats and a bowl of popcorn, which Caroline couldn't help but smile at. She also had a red shirt slung over her shoulder that was similar to the one Caroline was wearing, but she didn't take much notice of that. Nathalie handed the popcorn to Caroline who started eating it quickly as Nathalie opened the drawer to the bedside table and pulled out a remote.

'What are we watching, then?' she said cheerfully, crawling into (massive) bed and putting the bag of goodies in the middle. Caroline got into the other side, carefully balancing the bowl between them. As Nathalie tried to find a soppy movie to watch, the blonde sifted through the bag of sweets.

She took a box labelled 'Pepper Imps' and tore it open, deciding that they looked innocent enough. By the time she had put one in her mouth, it was too late, and Nathalie was crying with laughter at Caroline's face as smoke streamed out of her ears and nose.

'What _are_ those!?' she shrieked.

Nathalie was to busy trying to regain her breath to reply, and Caroline soon joined in with her laughter.

* * *

11:39PM.

It wasn't too late; Caroline had crashed pretty quickly after crawling into bed. Nathalie slid out from under the covers quietly and padded towards her handbag in the corner, pulling the book from earlier out of it. She dusted it off before getting back into bed, opening the book gingerly.

There were a few chapters that focused on strengths and weaknesses of vampires, general personality traits and the myths and legends surrounding them. There was even a chapter for retellings of vampire encounters. Further into a book, the layout changed and it was set out almost like an encyclopaedia.

This piqued Nathalie's interest.

Names were listed in alphabetical order by last name. She wondered how long the author spent gathering the information, because there were hundreds of names, all with a small backstory and general information on that particular vampire. She flipped through the pages slowly, skimming through the information before she got a bit bored and went straight to the 'P' section. It didn't take long for her to find it.

_**Pierce, Katherine  
**__Magical Status: Muggle  
Time of Turning: Unknown  
Status: Alive  
Information on Katherine Pierce is scarce. The name first appeared in the early seventeenth century, after a wizard came across her in a tavern. The encounter was quick; after attempting to compel him (unsuccessfully) after a quick conversation, she fled when she realised her compulsion was ineffective. He later chased her down and altered her memory. He did say, however, that she was not a newborn vampire due to her impeccable self-control when he cut himself quite severely on the hand by trying to handle broken glass, requiring a visit to St. Mungo's Hospital. What records do show is that many who come into contact with Katherine Pierce often disappear afterwards, and for this reason, she should be approached with caution._

'Brilliant,' Nat whispered, glancing over at Caroline. She wasn't worried for her _own_ safety; she'd handled worse and she knew that she could handle herself against Katherine. She _was_, however, worried about Caroline. Katherine was making a concerted effort to interfere with Caroline's life, using her as a pawn in her own game and Nathalie didn't like that. As much as she'd like to, she knew there was no way she'd be able to keep Caroline safe all the time and if this particular vampire was set on making her friend's life difficult then she was really in some serious danger.

And that wasn't okay with Nathalie, not at all.

She flipped the pages back and forth as she was thinking. Surely there was something more she could do than follow Caroline around like a lackey-

Something caught her eye. On the previous page, above a few more summaries was a name very similar to Katherine Pierce.

_**Petrova, Katerina  
**__Magical Status: Muggle  
Time of Turning: 1492  
Status: Unknown  
Originally from Bulgaria, Lady Katerina Petrova was a muggle who resided at Court alongside prestigious wizarding families such as the Malfoys and Blacks. She is said to have been the lady behind the execution Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost of Hogwarts known affectionately as Nearly-Headless Nick._ (Nathalie couldn't help herself; she laughed. What a small world, she thought.)_ Exotically beautiful and well-liked by many members of court, her teeth were thankfully restored to normal after Sir Nicholas accidentally turned them into tusks. Her current status is unknown. Eye-witnesses state that she was particularly close to the Mikaelson vampire family who also resided at Court, but she vanished suddenly one morning along with known vampire Trevor Hughes. She resurfaced a few decades later as a vampire and it has been deduced that her disappearance was due to her transformation. Eye-witness accounts claim that on the night of her disappearance, Lord Niklaus Mikaelson was extremely enraged. Reasons why are unknown._

That was even more interesting. It might have been completely irrelevant (Nathalie doubted that, but it was possible), but she had a sneaking suspicion that 'Katherine Pierce' was just 'Katerina Petrova' anglicised. From what she could tell, Katherine Pierce was shrouded in mystery.

She closed the book and threw it back into her handbag, fistpumping (a little bit) when it went straight in.

Nathalie looked at Caroline one more time, before rolling over and settling in.

She'd think about it all tomorrow.

* * *

_Super long chapter for you all._

_As of April 2016, this chapter has undergone a __**major**__ rewrite._

_Please review! xo_


	7. A Daring Rescue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter or Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

Caroline woke up alone.

She sat up from the bed, shivering slightly at the cold breeze that hit her arms when she pulled up and out of the little nest Nathalie and herself created the night before. Despite the amount of sleep she had gotten, as the clock on her bedside table told her that it was about nine thirty in the morning, she felt like she hadn't slept for days. Caroline ran her hands through her hair as she tried to push back a yawn and she swung her legs out from under the covers, stepping onto the soft, yet cold carpet beneath her feet.

She was thankful that Nathalie didn't have freezing, wooden flooring.

Her feet padded softly towards the bathroom with every intention of waking herself up before going to find Nathalie. To her surprise, she found a note on the counter which had been weighed down with a brand new toothbrush, still in the packet. The handwriting was very neat, joined up and very easy to read and she could only guess that it was from her friend. The note was written on parchment paper, and Caroline made a mental note to buy her friend a regular notebook and pen.

_Morning sunshine!_

_I had a few errands to run so I'm afraid I've left you all by your lonesome. Don't worry about Katherine, she won't be able to find you here and even if she did know your location, she wo__n't __be able to get onto the property._

_And Kreacher could kick her ass if he wanted to._

_Help yourself to anything you need, and feel free to ask Kreacher for anything as well. He's under full instruction to look after you. If you want a change of clothes then you're welcome to any of mine._

_Text me if you leave so I don't have a panic if you're not there when I get back._

_Nat xo_

Caroline shook her head, unable to understand why she appeared so cheerful in the morning even through a note. She couldn't help but smile at the fact she was being looked after, and felt a good amount of gratefulness towards the brunette.

She decided to take a quick shower and soon emerged from the bathroom smelling like Nathalie's peach and mango scented toiletries. They were in odd bottles and was manufactured by a brand named Madame Primpernelle. Caroline figured that they were probably another thing from the Wizarding world, and had every intention of demanding Nathalie to pick some up for her because her hair had never been this sleek and shiny and her skin had never felt this soft.

After digging up a hairdryer in Nathalie's room that looked like it had never been used and drying her hair, Caroline inspected herself in the mirror.

Nobody would be able to tell that anything was wrong. If anything, she looked more put together than ever (she had to stop the urge of putting Nathalie's beauty products into a bag and keeping them to herself). She couldn't help but admire the reflection that stared back at her, the vain side of her seventeen year old self preening at the glow on her cheeks.

Caroline pulled her eyes away from her reflection and looked around Nathalie's room. Before the previous night she hadn't actually been upstairs yet. When she took in the size of the bedroom, she decided that the spare room actually looked very small in comparison. It was very similarly decorated, using deep reds instead of greens and it looked very warm and rustic, but she couldn't help but feel like something was a little off.

Then it hit her.

This room looked exactly like a spare bedroom - apart from a few personal touches like a hairbrush and makeup box, there was nothing else that would show who the room belonged to. There were no personal photographs, and it was spotlessly clean the whole way through. Even the bed had been made, and it was made perfectly as if the sheets had been ironed just minutes before. Everything was in a specific place.

It then clicked for her that the house, as a whole, lacked in personal touches. A visitor would be able to tell that it was obviously lived in, but there weren't any photographs anywhere else either. She knew Nathalie was a bit of a lone wolf sometimes, but she didn't realise that her isolation was quite this extensive. Maybe that's why she was so nice to Caroline.

Her fingers were itching to snoop around. Anyone else would have received a thorough rooting through of drawers and cupboards and a heavy inspection on anything she could find.

_No!_ she thought, berating herself for even entertaining the idea. Rooting through Nathalie's personal effects would be unfair and wrong, especially since the girl had taken her under her wing and looked after her since her transition into a vampire. When her nosy side quieted down within her, she thought about why everything was so impersonal. Caroline knew that Nathalie had friends and family, so it couldn't be because she had no one. Maybe it was a safety precaution in case someone who didn't know her secret got into the house?

Yes, that makes sense, she thought. Instead of going through Nathalie's things, Caroline shrugged the feeling off and made her way to Nathalie's wardrobe. She would limit her nosying about to the girl's closet.

Which, by the way, she was very much looking forward to.

* * *

Pulling the hood of her lovely new travelling cloak over her head, Nathalie leaned back into her chair and watched the goings on around her.

Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary. The Leaky Cauldron was as dusty and old as ever, with weird patrons everywhere and Tom behind the bar polishing the glasses with a rag that looked like it had polished a few too many. The only thing that was missing was her friend who was running ridiculously late.

Nathalie huffed in annoyance, shifting her weight on the chair out of impatience. She knew he was some kind of big shot Auror nowadays, but being half an hour late to meet your best friend about important things was borderline unacceptable.

'I'm so sorry!'

Nathalie peeked out from under her hood, enjoying the slightly cowed look Ron was shooting her.

Nathalie considered herself a fairly patient person. It wasn't one of her greatest traits, but she could muster up patience when the situation required it. Ron knew that. He also knew what was within the bounds of acceptable and unacceptable.

She didn't like to wait.

'Finally found a minute for your best mate, have you?' she said dryly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. They were supposed to be meeting for his lunch break. By the time he had arrived, Nathalie had already ordered her sandwich. She had also already finished it.

Ron stumbled over his words. 'I'm sorry!' he wailed, although it came out a bit more like a frightened stutter. 'It's just- work and that- I have responsibilities, now, Nat!' The last part of his sentence seemed much more defiant. The tips of his ears had turned a cherry red that clashed horribly with his hair.

She couldn't take him seriously. Every time his ears turned that colour, Nathalie completely lost her composure and it wasn't any different now. She burst into laughter, her eyes misting up with tears that simply made him blush even more. She stood up from her chair and walked towards him, capturing her old friend in a firm embrace. 'I really do miss seeing you every day,' she chuckled, letting him hug her back for a few moments before she pulled away. 'I'm only joking, Ron.'

'Bloody woman,' he muttered, taking a seat opposite her as she took her place in her chair again.

'How's things?' she said casually, taking a sip of her drink. Instead of resuming her relaxed stance of leaning back against the chair, she was now sitting with her elbows against the table, her eyes fixed upon Ron and shooting him a meaningful look.

He looked a little uncomfortable, but he simply shifted in his seat. He waved his hand in the air, drawing the attention of the waiter and placing his order of a butterbeer and all-day full English breakfast before he answered her. 'Alright,' he said quietly. 'Getting there, but it's a lot more difficult nowadays.'

'Because Kingsley refuses to use Dementors?' she questioned, eyebrow raised.

'Because Kingsley refuses to use Dementors,' he nodded in the affirmative. 'I hate to say it, but they were bloody effective in keeping everyone in check. Now we have riots every day.' A few moments later, his lunch arrived at the table and his eyes lit up, causing Nathalie to snicker under her breath. No matter how old he got, she thought, he would always act like a child at the sight of food.

'How many are left?' she asked carefully. Before her move, she had participated in the last scheduled trial of a death eater. The newly reformed Ministry was under no illusion that it would be the last trial that would take place; despite the reforms benefitting all kinds of magical folk from muggleborns to werewolves to house elves, there were still many people that disagreed with the idea of equality and were quite disappointed with the outcome of the war.

'Out of the main ones? A couple,' he pondered. 'We still can't find Mulciber or MacNair. They're the only loyal ones from the inner circle that have disappeared entirely off the radar.'

'So the slimy ones.' She tried and failed to conceal the disgust laced in her tone at the thought of the two men. They had fought in both Wizarding wars. She thought back to her third year at Hogwarts, where MacNair was scheduled to execute Buckbeak and the glee in his eyes for causing something's death, and shivered at memory.

'Right,' Ron nodded, his mouth full of food. 'We reckon they've left the country. It's taken a while but we've finally got the other Wizarding governments keeping an eye out for them.' Ron chewed his food a bit more, straining to swallow the sheer amount he had stuffed in his face before he continued. 'Gonna take bloody ages o'course. There's search parties out for them now.'

It was quiet between them for a moment. An uneasy silence had settled between the two as she pondered his words. 'Why do I have a feeling that isn't going to turn out smoothly?'

Ron shrugged. 'Prolly 'cause nothing we ever plan goes smoothly,' he smirked, shoving a forkful of black pudding in his mouth.

Despite the serious conversation, Nathalie laughed. She was soon joined by Ron, and the world didn't seem quite as dangerous anymore.

* * *

Caroline sighed.

Her pride wouldn't allow her to admit it out loud, but the coldness of her mother truly hurt her feelings despite her efforts to show otherwise. She wanted to be anywhere but the Salvatore house; not only could Katherine get to her there, but the Sheriff was also there and that wasn't something Caroline enjoyed thinking about.

Her feet padded quietly towards the cell her mother was contained in; as she opened the latch and the door, Liz stood up and looked at her daughter apprehensively.

Caroline cast a curious eye at her mother's tray of food. She noted quickly that her mother was literally being treated as a prisoner; after her harsh words from the night before, however, she found herself struggling to care.

'You didn't eat much,' Caroline said, slightly flippantly. She definitely wasn't expecting a response, although she couldn't deny that it hurt her when the awkward silence weighed upon them both. She shook her head slightly and continued. 'Good news! Doctor Damon said the vervain is almost out of your system. So, with any luck, you'll be freshly compelled and back in your own bed by tonight!' Caroline's voice took on a cheerful tone, trying desperately to dispel the awkward silence surrounding herself and Liz. She hoped, in vain, that her chirpiness would be able to push away the horrible look of disdain her mother was throwing at her; alas, that was not the case, and she feltt a little piece of her cringe inside at the look she was receiving.

'Are you really just gonna pretend like I don't exist..?' Caroline enquired quietly, staring at her mother from beneath her lashes. Her tone was laced with sadness, despite the strength of her voice.

'Yes,' Liz replied defiantly. 'So please, go.'

Caroline huffed, a bolt of frustration rushing through her body. She snatched the tray of food into her hands, clutching it tightly as she tried to control her wayward emotions that she hadn't quite grasped just yet. 'As usual, you don't care. Got it. Just like before I was a vampire.' she sniped sarcastically, rolling her eyes. 'It's not like I _died_ or anything.' Her tone was laced with bitterness as she walked towards the metal door, with every intention of leaving her mother behind to rot until she was compelled to be normal again.

'Are you really dead?' Liz asked quietly; having not expected a word from Liz, Caroline stopped in shock and turned slowly. Liz was staring at the wall as Caroline looked at her, surprise written all over her features.

'Yes and no,' she replied slowly. Caroline was never sure of her response; sure, she had been murdered by Katherine, and she had to drink blood to survive; even if she didn't drink blood though, she would be alive, even if she had desiccated to the point of not being able to function. So she was very much alive. It would be quite difficult to kill her. Yet, was she dead?

'How is it possible?' Liz breathed, looking at Caroline for the first time. Liz couldn't help but notice that Caroline didn't look much different; if anything, her daughter looked significantly healthier than she did before. Maybe vampirism could be a good thing. Maybe she should do her motherly duties and be there for her daughter no matter the circumstance. Maybe she should take into consideration the words from Caroline's new friend Nathalie; despite her steely reception of the ultimatum, she would be a total liar if she didn't admit that Nathalie's words had affected her in some way. She couldn't help but feel like maybe she should put her prejudices aside and be there for her daughter, despite the unusual circumstances.

Caroline looked at Liz for a moment, debating to herself what the motive was. With a sigh, she closed the heavy metal door and walked towards her mother, placing her tray down once more.

* * *

'Ric!' Damon said enthusiastically. Alaric was carrying a box of Isobel's research as he made his way into the boarding house. Noticing Jeremy, he did a double take as his eyebrows creased in displeasure and confusion.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded.

Jeremy tensed, his voice instantly going defensive. 'Helping Damon. I'm the one who found out about the moonstone.'

Alaric narrowed his eyes, turning to Damon for confirmation. He simply shrugged in response, bringing his glass of bourbon closer to his mouth.

'Does Elena know you're here?' Ric frowned.

Jeremy crossed his arms. 'Not exactly.'

'What you got?' Damon asked, grinning and opening the box. He pulled out a book and inspected it.

'This is Isobel's research from Duke,' Alaric stated, staring at the book in Damon's hand and leaning against the table. 'Her assistant sent it to me.'

'Mm, Vanessa,' Damon grinned. 'The hottie.'

Alaric snatched the book from Damon's hands. 'Vanessa, yes. Now, do you remember the old Aztec curse she told us about?'

'Sun and the moon, blah blah blah bla-'

'Oh, an Aztec curse?' Jeremy interrupted, making his way towards the older men. 'Cool.'

'Yeah,' Alaric said slowly. 'Supposedly, vampires and werewolves used to roam freely until a shaman put a curse on them to limit their power. Since then, werewolves can only turn on a full moon and vampires are weakened by the sun.' He gestured to Damon, who wiggled his fingers, proudly displaying his daylight ring.

'Most of them, anyway,' he quipped.

'According to legend,' Alaric continued, 'The werewolf part of the curse is sealed with the moonstone.' He pulled out a map from the box and handed it to Jeremy, who inspected it with a raised eyebrow.

'What do you mean sealed?'

'It's a witch thing,' Damon drawled. 'Whatever seals the curse is usually the key to unsealing the curse.'

'Maybe Mason Lockwood believes he can use the moonstone to break the curse?'

'If we start believing in some supernatural witchy-woo legend from a picture book, we're idiots,' Damon scoffed. 'Who has the stone now?'

'Tyler,' Jeremy said.

'Can you get it?'

'Yeah.'

'See,' Damon waved his arms. 'Now your life has purpose.'

It was quiet for a moment before Jeremy broke it. 'So, do you believe it?'

'It's the same book that says a werewolf bite kills a vampire,' Damon drawled, making his way towards Alaric and Jeremy. 'Ignoring it would make me an even bigger idiot. Let's go.' He took one last chug of his drink, emptying the glass and placing it on the table as he walked past the others. They looked at each other momentarily before following the vampire out of the house.

* * *

'I can't believe this,' Bonnie sighed.

'It's a lot, I know. Katherine's doing everything she can to drive me and Stefan apart, and Caroline just got trapped in the middle.'

Elena and Bonnie had stepped away from the Lockwood Mansion where they were preparing for the Masquerade Ball. Walking across the vast gardens, they had made their way to a small stone bench that overlooked a large pond. A hint of awkwardness hung in the air as Bonnie took a deep breath.

'It's not that you and Stefan are pretending to fight,' she said, placing her hands on her knees. 'It's that I didn't even know you guys were fighting at all.'

Elena looked down, almost ashamed as the gravity of Bonnie's words sunk in. Was she being a bad friend? They were best friends, surely one of the first people she should have gone to when everything started would have been Bonnie. 'I'm sorry,' she said quietly. 'I don't want to keep things from you but you've made it pretty clear where you stand with the whole vampire thing.' It made sense - Elena didn't want to talk to Bonnie about anything when she would automatically judge anything that came out of her mouth.

'So that makes me the odd man out,' she replied, rolling her eyes with just a hint of resentment in her tone.

'No - no, Bonnie, of course not,' Elena was quick to deflect that.

'I know where I stand, Elena,' Bonnie said strongly, staring her friend straight in the eyes. 'And I know where you stand. But where do _we_ stand?'

Elena was quiet for a moment as she looked at her. 'You're my best friend, Bonnie,' she said, sincerity in her words. 'I didn't mean to let this craziness with Caroline get in the way of that. But she needs you too.'

Bonnie shook her head defiantly, leaning back on her hands as she moved away slightly. 'Not yet. I just..' she took a shaky breath. 'She's a vampire. I can't. Not with everything else.'

Elena's eyebrows shot up in question. 'What do you mean 'everything else'?'

'It just doesn't feel right, Elena,' Bonnie snapped. 'Something changed in Mystic Falls the night Caroline turned and the only thing of I can think of is Caroline's transformation. I don't feel right about this, and I'm not ready.'

Elena's brows creased in confusion as Bonnie stands up to leave.

'I think we should get back.'

Elena sighed, but followed her anyway, feeling lower than she did when the conversation first started.

* * *

Mason carried a box out of the house, grumbling under his breath about having to help prepare for this stupid Ball. Even when he lived in Mystic Falls, the overabundance of events that took place in the town bored him. Even now, as a fully grown man, he had to help set up, no matter how disinterested he is.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed Stefan Salvatore. He did a double take when he saw the vampire, as he was under the impression that the brothers were very much dead.

The image of Nathalie's disappointment in him briefly flashed through his mind, although he pushed the thought away very quickly.

'Hey, Stefan,' he said casually, walking past the man and putting the box on the table. His brows creased in confusion when his back was turned, although he could almost feel Stefan's smug smirk against his back as his replied.

'Hey, Mason.'

'Wasn't expecting you here,' he said. 'Or anywhere.'

'Yeah, I had this little accident,' Stefan replied, a small smile on his face. 'But I'm fine now.' His tone spoke volumes - far more than what his words could actually put across.

'What did you do to Sheriff Forbes?' Mason demanded quietly, taking a few steps towards the vampire. His hands rested on his hips defiantly. He wasn't sure whether he would be able to handle the guilt if Liz had died at his hands.

'Oh, she's fine too,' Stefan grinned. 'But from now on, you'll have to do your own dirty work.'

Mason shook his head slightly before he made eye contact with the vampire. He nodded, accepting the challenge. 'Not a problem.'

Quickly, he turned around and walked away, eager to leave in order to calm his incredibly uncomfortable wolf down. His mind was so scattered that he completely failed to notice Bonnie, whom he smacked into as he walked away. 'Excuse me,' he said apologetically before disappearing into the distance.

Stefan narrowed his eyes, taking in Bonnie's expression.

'What's the matter? Are you okay?'

'When I touched him,' Bonnie paused, 'I saw something.'

'What do you mean? Like a vision?'

'I saw Elena.'

Stefan narrowed his eyes in shock as his eyebrows moved further towards his hairline. 'You saw Elena?'

Bonnie was apprehensive. 'He was kissing her.'

Stefan chuckled, a twinge of hurt shooting through him. 'No, Bonnie, Elena wouldn't kiss-' Stefan trailed off as his mind started putting together the pieces. Of course Elena wouldn't kiss Mason. His face morphed into one of understanding as he sighed. 'You didn't see Elena. You saw Katherine.'

* * *

Perhaps there was a reason why Nathalie didn't like visiting Hogsmeade anymore.

Don't get me wrong. She absolutely adored the little village. She had spent so many hours here and there was almost nothing as exciting as a Hogsmeade trip when she was younger. Finally getting to visit in her third year was a memory that she would always cherish - even if she was hidden under her cloak the whole time and she found out about Sirius that day.

No, the reason why she didn't like visiting Hogsmeade was because of the memories.

She was getting better. Truly, she was. As a human being she was entirely functional and she never wallowed on her past for longer than was healthy. However, the many hours she had spent exploring the village and the caves and forests around it with Fred when she was younger tainted the place for her, because all she could think about was how days out like that would _never_ come around again.

Nevertheless, Honeydukes was Nathalie's go-to for all her confectionary needs and she couldn't help but feel a bit dirty if she went anywhere to shop.

Especially if she was making a big order, like today.

'Miss Potter!' Ambrosius Flume was a tall, skinny man. Incredibly cheerful, he never failed to make Nathalie smile when she visited his shop. His eyes glittered in happiness in seeing one of his old regulars returning and she grinned at him in return.

'Mr. Flume. How you doing?'

'Fabulous, my dear, absolutely fabulous. What can I do for you today?' Mr. Flume picked up a basket as he spoke, gathering different sweet treats as he went along and shoving them in the basket, making sure to get more chocolate than anything seeing as it was Nathalie's favourite.

'I'd like to make a recurring order of blood pops please,' she said absentmindedly, taking in her surroundings. The familiar barrel of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans was still by the door and the colours were just as vibrant as she remembered. She didn't fail to notice Mr. Flume's raised eyebrow in surprise.

'Blood pops?'

'I've met a friend who likes them far more than I do. Could you send me a box every fortnight?' she pulled out a pouch of gold and handed it to him as he took it silently. 'If it's not too much trouble.'

'Of course, Miss Potter. Is there anything else I can do for you?'

Mr. Flume took his incredibly loaded basket and brought it to the counter, ringing up her orders as she filled out a form that would specify exactly what she wanted in her order. He emptied the contents of the basket into a bag, which he charmed with a feather-light charm.

Nathalie gave him the form as she took the bag from him, a gentle smile on her face. 'Virginia, Miss Potter? Virginia in America?'

She winked at him and raised her finger to her mouth, silently telling him not to tell anyone. 'Thanks, Mr. Flume! I'll see you soon.'

She turned and stepped out of the shop, giving him one last wave when he shot her a cheerful smile back, quietly wondering what on earth Nathalie Potter was doing with her life now.

* * *

Jeremy took a deep breath. For once, he was allowed to help out with the crazy happenings around him and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at being involved for _once._ He looked at Tyler from across the room, and he waited until Matt walked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Damon and Stefan, eavesdropping just like he knew they would.

'Hey man,' he said casually as he approached Tyler.

'Hey!' he responded, a friendly smile on his face. Despite the argument between Jeremy and Tyler about Vicki, they had buried the hatchet. Tyler couldn't help but think that it was nice not having to deal with that kind of negative energy anymore.

'Hey, so I did a little research on that stone you showed me,' Jeremy started, trying to keep his tone as light as possible. He felt a small jolt of fear shoot through him when Tyler's face changed into one of curiosity and slight suspicion. Jeremy felt like he was going to be caught out at any second.

'What?' Tyler said. 'Why?'

'I don't know,' he shrugged. 'Curiosity. Boredom.'

It was quiet for a moment whilst Tyler took this in. 'What did it say?'

'Well,' he answered, a small amount of excitement in his voice. 'It turns out that it's part of this Aztec legend but I want to make sure it's the same kind of stone. Do you think I could check it out again?' he smiled as he spoke, trying to make himself look as discrete as possible.

'Nope,' Tyler shook his head. 'I gave it to my uncle.'

Jeremy's stomach dropped. He could almost feel the glare Damon was shooting their way. The one thing that he had been sent out to retrieve, he was too late. 'Why did you do that?' he cringed slightly when he heard the tone of his voice, hoping that Tyler didn't care enough to pick up the slight panicked undertones.

'Because I'm done with legends and curses,' Tyler said, more harshly than he intended but he carried on anyway. 'I don't want anything to do with it, okay?'

'Yeah, yeah sure,' Jeremy raised his hands in submission. 'It's probably, uh, just stupid folklore anyways. Forget it.'

He shot Tyler a friendly grin and received a nod in return. Meanwhile, Damon stared at the two boys, clenching his jaw and his fists. Stefan looked on with a raised eyebrow, noting his brother's borderline temper tantrum with a sigh. The two walk away, both trying to think up of another plan now that this one was ruined.

* * *

Stefan couldn't help but feel slightly guilty as he watched Damon drag Bonnie away. She hated vampires, and he knew that. Yet all she seemed to do was get tangled up with vampires and he couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

Maybe asking Bonnie for help wasn't a good idea. Maybe he should just go straight to Nathalie. He would have done, if everyone else was privy to the information he was. Only Caroline about her powers. As desperate as Stefan would get sometimes, he knew when not to cross the line and revealing Nathalie's secret when she had been nothing but helpful would be crossing that line.

Even though he _really_ wanted to ask her for help.

She knew about vampires and werewolves. Her community obviously has a deeper understanding of the supernatural than anyone he knew - she had clearly studied the things she had talked to him and Caroline about which gave him the impression that, somewhere, there was a pool of information about everything they needed to know ready to be studied.

Would it be too outlandish to expect her to know something about the Sun and Moon Curse?

Stefan would put money on the fact that, even if she didn't know anything, she would be able to find out very easily. He would also put money on the fact that she would be able to get her hands on the moonstone much easier than anyone else in the town.

But, quite frankly, did he have the balls to ask her to help?

Would she even want to?

His train of thought was interrupted by a text message from Elena.

'Everything OK?'

* * *

Caroline sat opposite her mother, wringing her hands nervously as she had the conversation with her she had been dreading.

_At least she's somewhat listening now_, she thought, appraising her mum's face. It was attentive. Scared, but attentive. Better than nothing.

'So, I mainly drink from blood bags. It's not as good as the fresh stuff, but it beats the animal blood that Stefan's been trying to get me to drink,' she smiled gently, looking at the floor.

'So, you steal blood from the hospital?'

'Damon does,' she said quickly. Caroline couldn't help but feel like she had to defend herself on this, considering her mother is the Sheriff. 'I've been pilfering his supply, so…'

It was quiet for a moment before Liz opened her mouth again. 'As long as you have blood, you don't need to kill?'

'I want to,' she said quietly. 'It's my basic nature now. But, on a healthy diet, I can control it. I'm getting better at it. I'm better than Stefan. He's a bit of a problem drinker. A blood-aholic.' She chuckled softly.

Liz sighed, making eye contact with the floor before she looked at Caroline's baby blues. 'I don't want this for you.'

Caroline shrugged, knowing that it wasn't something anyone would want for anybody else. 'I know. But when life gives you lemons…' she didn't know how to react in any way other than humour, so that's what she was going to do. She giggled weakly. Her ears perked up as she heard the front door open. 'Damon's home.'

Liz's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 'You could hear that?'

Caroline's phone buzzed in her pocket.

'_Where are you?_'

* * *

Mason registered a searing pain in his cheek that pulled him out of darkness. His head was throbbing and his first reaction was to reach to his head to see why it hurt so much; to his surprise, he couldn't move his hands.

He was bloody chained up to a chair.

Opening his eyes, he noticed with a small amount of dread that he was staring right at Damon Salvatore.

_For fuck's sake._

* * *

Bonnie was speedwalking to the front door as Caroline grabbed her arm.

'Hey!' Caroline said cheerfully. It sounded forced, Bonnie noticed, although not in a rude way. Almost as if she wasn't sure what to say.

She understood, because she didn't know what to say to Caroline either.

An awkward silence overtook them for a moment before Bonnie made a quick decision.

'Hi. How's your mom? Elena filled me in on everything.'

'I'm gonna take her home tonight,' Caroline smiled, releasing Bonnie's arm.

She wanted to apologise for not being there for her. She really did. But it was still so difficult for her to process the fact that her best friend was a _vampire_ \- the very creature that witches are supposed to despise because they were against nature's laws.

'Caroline,' she started, taking a deep breath. She wanted to apologise. Really. 'Um. Nevermind, I've got to go.'

'Did you find the moonstone thing?' Caroline said desperately. She understood, to an extent. She knew why Bonnie was trying to run away. But she didn't want her to go - of course she didn't want Bonnie to go.

'Not yet.' Bonnie shook her head. 'Hey.. do you remember that old well where we used to play when we were kids?'

Carolien nodded. 'Yeah.'

'It's in the woods. Do you remember where?'

'On the edge of the old Lockwood property. Why?'

Bonnie hesitated for a moment before telling Caroline. 'I think that's where Mason is keeping the moonstone. I've got to go.'

Caroline raised an eyebrow. 'Well, I can come with you?'

'No- it's okay,' Bonnie said quickly, looking at Caroline quickly. Her stomach dropped a little when she saw the hurt and dispapointment in her friend's face - she couldn't do that to Caroline. 'Actually, yeah. Sure.'

She perked up instantly. Vampirism had really made her much more neurotic than before, she noticed. 'Okay!'

Caroline pulled out her phone and pulled up her messages.

'Who're you texting?' Bonnie enquired, eyes slightly narrowed.

'Just telling Nat that I'll meet her later than expected,' Caroline said smoothly as they walked out of the house together.

* * *

Nat dropped her bags on the counter and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

'_Change of plans. I'll meet you later._'

Her eyes narrowed.

'_What you up to?'_

'_We found something Katherine wants. Going to get it.'_

'_Where at?'_

'_In a well next to the old Lockwood property.'_

'Kreacher.'

The elf appeared, bowing deeply at Nathalie as he waited for his orders.

'I'd like you to locate a well on the edge of the Lockwood property. There's something important in there. I want you to find it, get it, and replace it with a duplicate if necessary. Stay out of sight.'

He bowed deeper, if it was possible. 'As you wish, mistress.'

With a _crack_!, he had disappeared, and she resumed with unpacking her shopping from earlier in the day.

As if she would let Caroline further into Katherine's line of fire. Not a chance.

'_I forgot to tell you. Mason is at the Salvatore's.'_

Nathalie growled and picked up her purse, tucking her wand into the bun in her hair before she turned on her feet and disappeared with a loud _pop!_.

* * *

Damon held a hot poker into the fire, listening to Mason struggling to get out of the chair.

The werewolf knew what was coming and Damon couldn't help but smirk to himself as he turned around.

'Someone's feisty.'

He stood up and made his way towards Mason, who continued to struggle - even harder now that Damon was getting closer. He pushed his chair backwards, causing it to fall back and he vaguely registered the dull thud of pain in his back as he landed on it funny.

It would be nothing but a gentle graze in comparison to what's to come.

'What?' Mason growled, eyeing up the vampire. He didn't respond, simply pushing the orange poker into his chest and Mason couldn't help but let out an agonised scream at the pain.

'You can hurt,' Damon commented dryly, 'Good to know. I was afraid you were gonna be some beast mass with no affinity for pain.'

Leaning down, he pulled down Mason's collar to inspect the wound.

'Oh, but you heal quickly,' he tutted his disappointment. 'Not good. Guess I'll just have to keep applying pain.'

He grabbed the back of the chair and pulled Mason back up, shooting him another look before turning to heat up the poker again.

'So.. Katherine. How do you know her? What's she up to?'

Mason curled his lip in disgust, choosing to do nothing more beyond spitting on the floor.

_Well it's a good thing I put that tarp down_, Damon thought to himself as he grinned at the werewolf dryly. 'I have all day.'

He turned again and, without warning, thrust the white hot poker into Mason's stomach.

He couldn't bite back his screams, no matter how hard he tried.

* * *

Kreacher tutted.

'Mistress will be very pleased,' he muttered to himself, inspecting the stone in his hand. It caused his fingers to tingle, the Wiccan magic reacting to his elf magic and he knew it was important. He turned it in his hand and used his beady eyes to inspect it. To him, it almost glowed; any elf would be able to tell that this was no regular stone.

He looked at the ratty old box discarded at his feet, and scoffed. With one click of the fingers, a rock on the floor had been charmed to look exactly like the moonstone he had in his hand. A wave of the hand placed it back in the box and Kreacher picked it up before throwing it back into the well. With one final click of the fingers, the grate returned to its rightful place and it was all locked up and safe again, like nobody had ever been there.

In the distance, he heard footsteps. He grumbled and spun on his heel, disappearing with a loud _crack!_ back home, ready to show his mistress his boons.

When Stefan arrived at the well, his brow creased in confusion. He could've sworn that he heard a heartbeat in this direction. He could even vaguely smell something. Slightly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it; something had been here recently, but after inspecting the well and seeing that the lock and everything else was still in tact, he put it down to an animal having visited the site. Shaking his head, he pulled the lock off as Elena caught up to him.

'What's going on?'

'You shouldn't be here,' he sighed, using his torch to look into the water. It was a fairly high drop, but nothing he couldn't handle, even on his bunny diet. Removing the grate, he threw it to one side and jumped onto the edge of the well.

'I know, but I am. What's going on?' Elena pushed. She felt a little out of the loop; first Damon, Stefan and Bonnie were off doing their own thing and now Stefan doesn't want to tell her what's going on. Seriously, what was going on? It was driving her insane not knowing what everyone else did.

'Bonnie thinks the moonstone is down there.' For another few moments, Stefan looked into the darkness. He couldn't help but feel like this was a bad idea; nevertheless, they needed the moonstone and someone had to go get it. He snapped out of his small stupor when Elena pushed the flashlight towards him, a meaningful look in her eye.

'Be careful.'

He nodded, and without another word, jumped into the water.

He didn't register anything at first, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Slowly, though, he felt like he was on fire. His entire body was burning; every part of his body that had water on was completely _burning_. Panicked, he looked at his arm; deep wounds and lacerations covered it, getting worse by the moment and his brain somewhat processed the danger amidst the haze of pain.

Vervain.

He started gasping. It was like his vocal chords had cut out because he was barely able to do anything more than gasp; good _God_, it hurt.

Stefan tried desperately to get out. The walls of the well were covered in moss; there was no way he would get enough traction to get out of the well. The vervain floated towards him, almost like it knew he was there and it just burned more.

He heard a scream of pain when it dawned on him that there was no way out. Later on, he would realise that the scream was, in fact, his own.

'Elena!' he yelled desperately, eyes wide, his voice breaking. '_Elena!_'

'Stefan!?' she gasped. 'Stefan, what's happening?!'

He clawed at the sides, desperately trying to pull himself out of the water.

'Stefan, what's happening!?' she shrieked.

She could hear his agonised gasps and felt her stomach drop towards the floor. 'Vervain,' he breathed. 'Oh,_ God,_ help!'

'Stefan!'

She looked around, her gaze panicked as she tried to find a way to help him. Her eyes caught sight of the old, rusted chain next to the well and she grabbed it, trying with all her might to pull it off the ground. Her eyes watered as, no matter how hard she tried, she just wasn't strong enough to hold it.

'Elena!'

Her head snapped round in the direction of the unexpected voice. Caroline appeared behind her, looking incredibly confused.

'Stefan's down there,' Elena gasped, flailing her arms in the direction of the well. 'The chain's rusted-'

Caroline immediately began to climb up the well, her first instinct telling her to jump in and save him.

'No!' Elena grabbed Caroline desperately. Her breathing was incredibly laboured and she wondered idly if she was starting to have a panic attack. 'No, no. You can't! It's filled with vervain. We've got to get him out Caroline. Now!'

It took a moment for Caroline to process what Elena was saying, but when it clicked, she sprung into action. Quickly taking the chain that Elena had just struggled with, she wrapped it around the brunette who had just started to climb the well.

They would get Stefan out.

* * *

'So, when did you two meet?' Damon questioned, using his signature mocking tone. 'Did she seduce you? Tell you she loved you? You're supernatural, so.. she can't compel you. I'm sure she used her other charms.' Damon tore his eyes away from the fireplace for a moment to shoot Mason a teasing smirk. 'Katherine's good that way.'

The werewolf didn't have a chance to answer as Jeremy strolled into the room, carrying a box of Isobel's research. Putting it down on the table, he pulled something out of it - Mason felt his body fill with dread when he realised what exactly was in the teenager's hands.

'I thought I told you to leave,' Damon commented dryly, walking towards Jeremy.

'I found something in Ric's box of stuff,' he answered back, ignoring the vampire's tone.

He seemed to perk up when he heard that. 'Ooh, what is it?'

Jeremy handed a small parcel to Damon, who unwrapped it and inspected one of the flowers.

'I did a search on my phone. It's a plant. Aconitum Vulparia. It grows in the mountainous areas of the northern hemisphere, commonly known as aconite, blue rocket, and wolfsbane.' Neither male noticed Mason squeeze his eyes shut tightly as he tried to push the tears back. He wouldn't show more weakness than he had to.

But by _God_ was he terrified.

'What else did you read?'

'Well, every source says something different,' Jeremy said, scrolling through his phone. 'One myth says it causes lycanthropy, which sounds bogus. Another one says that it protects people and another one says, well, it's toxic.'

Mason whimpered ever so slightly, causing Damon to raise a brow. He took one sprig of the plant and walked towards Mason. 'I'm guessing toxic.'

Standing in front of him, Damon inspected the man for a moment. His eyes darted back and forth between the man and the plant, before he held it close to Mason's cheek, not failing to notice how he tried to flinch away as far as possible. 'What's Katherine doing in Mystic Falls?'

A muscle in Mason's jaw jumped, but he kept silent. Damon couldn't help but feel a small amount of glee when he saw the fear shining in Mason's eyes. Wordlessly, he dragged the wolfsbane across his cheek and watched in fascination as his skin started sizzling and burning before his eyes.

Mason screamed.

Jeremy couldn't even watch.

'Why is she here?' Damon continued flatly.

'She's here with me,' Mason snapped. 'Why do you ask, you jealous?' Spittle flew out of his mouth, causing Damon to smirk.

'How rude of me,' he commented cheerfully. 'You know, I just realised, I didn't offer you anything to eat.'

He grabbed Mason's jaw and forced his mouth open, shoving the wolfsbane into his mouth. It burned his throat and his tongue as he tried desperately to spit it out, but the most he ended up spitting out was blood.

'Yummy!'

He spat out the wolfsbane and glared up at the vampire, hatred in his eyes. The eye contact was broken by a harsh cough that brought up more blood and remnants of the plant that had gone down into his burning throat.

All three men failed to notice the girl who was stood at the window, looking in with her eyes narrowed.

'Why do you want the moonstone?' Damon growled, his patience growing thin.

'Screw you!'

'Ah, wrong answer,' he tutted, walking closer to the werewolf before Jeremy stepped in.

'If he was gonna say anything, he would have already,' he said firmly. He didn't agree with torture. When he said he wanted to help, this isn't what he meant.

'I'm taking your eyes now,' Damon laughed, ignoring the teenager and he moved to place the wolfsbane on Mason's face again.

'The well!' he yelled desperately. He thought that's what they wanted to know. Where the moonstone was. He hurt all over - he hurt in his head, because of what Damon said to him about Katherine. He just hurt. He wanted Damon to _stop_. 'You can find it there!'

Damon waved around the wolfsbane again, shaking his head before he brought his face dangerously close to the werewolf's.

'I know where it is. I want to know what it _does_, and _why_ you want it.'

'I'm getting it for Katherine,' he said quietly.

'Why?' Damon couldn't even begin to understand why she would want the moonstone if it would mean helping a werewolf in the process.

'She's gonna use it to lift the curse.'

'Of the moon?' Damon snickered. 'Now, why would a vampire help a werewolf break a curse that keeps them from turning whenever they want?'

'So I wouldn't have to turn anymore.' Each time Mason responded, he got quieter and quieter.

'Why?'

'Because she loves me.' When Mason said this out loud, he realised just how pathetic it sounded. Would she really want to lift a curse that would keep the entire vampire race safe from werewolves, just for him?

It sounded much more far-fetched out loud than it did in his head.

Damon laughed out loud. A real, genuine laugh that showed Mason just how pathetic he thought Mason was.

'Now - now I get it,' he chuckled. 'You're just stupid. Katherine doesn't love you. She's using you, you moron.'

'I'm done talking,' Mason snapped.

'Yes, yes you are.'

The observer at the window disappeared.

Damon walked towards Jeremy, handing him the wolfsbane. 'It's time to take a walk, Jeremy.'

'I'm staying.'

'No,' Damon shook his head. 'You should go.'

'I'm staying, Damon,' Jeremy said firmly. He was trying to be strong. Really, he was. 'He's had enough.'

'Just help Tyler,' Mason pleaded, looking at the teenager. 'Don't let this happen to him.'

Guilt blossomed in Jeremy's chest as he heard the heartfelt words come from the man. He didn't expect to walk into this when he woke up that morning - there's no way he could let Mason die and feel okay with himself afterwards. Not a chance.

'Damon-' Jeremy tried again. The next thing he knew, he was pinned up against the wall, his air supply being cut off as Damon stared him down.

'You wanted to be a part of this? Well, here it is! Kill or be killed!' Damon growled. Neither noticed the _pop_! noise in the background as they stared each other down. 'The guy is a _werewolf_. He'd kill me the first chance he got! So, you either suck it up, or you _leave_.'

_Pop!_

Both men snapped their heads towards the source of the noise.

Their eyes widened.

Mason, along with the chair he was chained up in, was gone.

* * *

'So, I pulled Stefan out of this well and he's all vervained and just.. rotted, but Bonnie wasn't mean to me once! And I just - I really think it's progress, y'know? I just..' Caroline's enthusiastic tone trailed off as she looked at her mother, who was looking at her with wide eyes. 'What..? I'm freaking you out-'

'It's just that, you've become this person-'

'Don't.' Caroline said firmly, looking at the ground. 'Don't. We- we just started to get along-'

'This strong, this confident person,' Liz finished, her voice slightly astonished. Of all of the changes she thought would come to her daughter as a vampire, becoming, frankly, a _better_ person, was not one of the changes she was expecting.

'Oh,' Caroline said quietly, a small smile on her face. 'Thank you.'

'You don't have to take my memories away,' Liz said, sincerity laced in every word. 'I'll keep your secret. Look, if you're worried about them, just say you compelled me. I won't tell you. I'll never do anything to hurt you.' Anyone listening in could easily tell that Liz meant her words. They wouldn't be able to tell, however, that when she spoke, she had Nathalie's harsh words from the evening previous running through her mind.

'We never talk like this,' Caroline commented, a softness to her voice that hardly anyone ever heard. 'And today meant so much to me.'

Liz took her daughter's hands. 'Me too.'

'I know,' Caroline squeezed her mum's hands gently. 'I know I can trust you, but you're never going to trust them.'

Her heart felt heavy. Her eyes were watering and she was trying very, very hard not to let the tears fall down her cheeks as she looked Liz in the eyes.

'I'm going to take you home,' she breathed. 'You're going to forget that I'm a vampire.'

'I'm going to forget that you're a vampire,' Liz repeated, her voice monotone.

'You'll remember that you got sick with the flu. You had a fever, chills and ickiness, but I made you soup and it was _really_ salty,' she smiled a watery smile as she studied her mother's eyes. 'We bickered. You got better and then your selfish little daughter, who loves you no matter what, went right back to ignoring you and all is right in the world.'

She took a deep breath and sighed, standing up and wiping the tears off her face.

* * *

Damon nursed a glass of bourbon in his hands as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to comprehend exactly what the _hell_ happened that day.

One moment he was there, and the next, Mason was gone. He'd left his bag and his wallet as well as his phone - he had lost the one person that was entirely willing to expose them as vampires so what the _hell_ were they going to do?

He barely noticed Stefan walking in until he was stood in front of him with the moonstone in his hand.

'All this - for that?' Damon said dryly.

'Yep.' Stefan tossed the rock to his brother, who inspected it carefully.

'Where's Mason?' Stefan questioned, noticing the bloody tarp on the floor but no bloody body.

'He disappeared,' Damon said grouchily, downing the rest of his bourbon.

Stefan raised an eyebrow, inspecting Damon carefully. 'What do you mean he _disappeared_?'

'Poof. Gone. Heard a _pop_, and then he was gone. And I have no idea where.'

It was quiet for a few moments before it dawned on Stefan who exactly had come to Mason's rescue. He cussed under his breath, drawing Damon's attention.

'What's got your panties in a twist, baby bro?' Damon questioned sarcastically.

'I'll be back soon. Don't wait up.'

Stefan flashed out of the door.

* * *

He woke up to his shoes covered in vomit.

One moment he was waiting for Damon Salvatore to kill him in probably a more gruesome way than he could imagine; the next, he felt like he was being squeezed through an incredibly narrow rubber tube as he vomited and then saw nothing but darkness.

Mason groaned.

'Awake, I see.'

His head snapped up in the direction of the voice. It was husky, very British and very familiar.

Sat in an armchair opposite him was none other than Nathalie Potter.

'How you feeling?'

Mason noticed idly that he was no longer tied up, and no longer in pain. He had healed entirely; even his throat didn't feel like it burned anymore, and normally wounds caused by wolfsbane took a bit longer to heal than regular ones. She handed him a glass of water, complete with lemon slice and ice cubes.

'Where am I?' he croaked, his voice heavy from his screaming earlier.

'You're at my house,' she smiled. 'Looks like you were a damsel in distress today.'

'Why did you save me?'

Again, that feeling of comfort penetrated his very core. His wolf was soothed, no longer on edge about any potential danger around them and he had to admit that it felt incredibly _nice_ not to feel the slightest bit angry for once.

She shrugged.

'What are you?' he said quietly. 'How the hell did you get me out of there?'

It was, after all, a blur to him. He was there one minute and gone the next.

'Those are just small details,' she smiled gently. 'You, on the other hand, need to get out of town. Right now.'

'I can't do that,' he said gently. 'I can't just leave Tyler.'

She stared him down for a moment, emerald eyes boring into his own and again, he felt the urge to submit. 'You're getting out of town.'

'I can't-'

'Yes, you can,' she interrupted. 'If you stay here, you'll end up dead. If you value your life, you will get out. If Damon and Stefan don't kill you, Katherine will.'

'How do you know about Katherine?' Mason asked, surprised. He felt like a complete idiot - it seems that everyone knew that she would tear his heart out and rip him to shreds apart from him. How did she know?

'I know a lot of things,' she shrugged. 'You are entirely healed, and I recommend you go somewhere new, with new people and different ties. Where would you like me to take you?'

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Nathalie huffed indignantly, slamming her drink down on the coffee table as she made her way to the front door.

'What?' she snapped as she swung it open, knowing exactly who was behind it.

'You have Mason.'

When the werewolf heard who was speaking, he stiffened. Stefan Salvatore knew where he was and knew that he was alive. Why? Surely Nathalie wouldn't be able to fight off a vampire that wants him _dead_.

'I do,' she responded calmly, shrugging.

'What're you gonna do?'

'Keep him alive.'

Stefan sighed, running his hands through his hair. 'Nat-'

'He doesn't deserve to die, Stefan,' Nathalie said firmly, glaring at the vampire. 'He will leave, and he will not come back. So you can tell Damon that you found him and killed him and that he won't be making an appearance anytime soon.'

It was silent as the two stared each other down. Stefan himself didn't agree with killing Mason. But did he know too much? Surely if they let Mason go alive, it would bite them in the arse some day soon.

'Show some compassion for the man, Stefan.'

All Mason heard was a sigh and footsteps walking way. Nathalie walked back into the room and grinned at the wolf. 'So, lets get some food in you before you go, alright?'

* * *

'Mason's dead.'

Stefan strolled back into the Boarding House, not quite knowing what to do other than to play along with Nathalie's curveball. He wasn't sure why he didn't fight harder for his case; for some reason, he couldn't doubt her sincerity when she said that Mason wouldn't come back. He fully believed that she wouldn't allow Mason to get involved with Mystic Falls business again - but how the hell is he supposed to explain to Damon? Fake it, he supposed. Maybe it was a good thing that his hands were covered in blood from his bunny hunt on the way home, because it made the story more believable.

It seemed luck was on his side though, because as soon as Damon opened his mouth to question his brother, Mason's phone rang.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he noticed it was an unknown number and he grinned.

'I wonder who that could possibly be?' he snickered, leaning down to answer the phone.

'No, no no Damon, don't provoke her-' Stefan was cut off by the voice on the other line.

'Mason, you should have been here an hour ago,' a female voice sniped, anger laced in her tone. Stefan leaned up to snatched the phone away, but was pushed away by Damon. Feeling like he could do nothing else, he slapped Damon's hand and sat down on the sofa, feeling incredibly frustrated and worn down and like he needed a _drink_. He pointedly ignored Damon's smug grin.

'Wrong boy toy!' the dark haired vampire sang, enjoying the silence on the other end.

'Damon,' Katherine ground out, annoyed. 'For once, you've surprised me. I assume Mason is with you?'

'Unfortunately, Mason isn't anywhere anymore. Your dear old Stefan made sure of that.'

'You shouldn't have.'

Damon chuckled. 'I've had a very busy day today. I killed a werewolf, found a moonstone. Hey, did you know that he hid the moonstone in the bottom of a well full of vervain? I guess he didn't trust you very much. Although, he did love you. Poor guy. Hey, where are you? Because, you know, I could bring him over. Last goodbyes and all that.' He inspected his ring as he babbled on, basking in the joy of one upping Katherine for once.

'You have no idea what you've just done,' she said flatly.

'Aww,' Damon cooed. 'Did I put a kink in your master plan? I'm so sorry.'

'Do you honestly believe that I don't have a plan B?' It was Katherine's turn to chuckle. 'And if that fails, a plan C, then a plan D, and.. You know how the alphabet works, don't you? Send my love to Stefan.'

She hung up, and Damon narrowed his eyes at here barely veiled threat of retribution. He glanced at Stefan's bloody hands.

'Proud of you, baby bro.'

He ducked the tumbler Stefan threw his way and sent a message to Carol Lockwood instead.

* * *

'Are you bloody mad?'

Somewhere in the north of England, hidden amongst the trees in an old, battered cottage that hadn't seen residents in centuries, sat two men. They looked aged and like they hadn't bathed in weeks - which, in fact, they had not. Bathing wasn't high on their list of priorities to be entirely honest. They didn't care whether they smelled or not.

'It's almost time, Mulciber,' one of them growled. They had survived years and years of misfortune; they had survived events that had turned them into bitter men. Power hungry men. Men that craved the fear and the respect they could command at the height of their power.

They were angry.

They were vengeful. They would get what they wanted, no matter what it took.

And the time was coming.

'We will die doing this,' the other snapped, staring down his companion. He wanted to succeed just as much as the other, the man who was the closest thing he had to a friend in the world. Both were as dark and despicable as the other.

Wonderful companions to each other, really.

'And what's the problem with that?' Mulciber sneered. 'Look at the state we're in. We are _purebloods_. We are _royalty_. And we are _rotting here_.'

He shook his head and slammed his fist down on the table, which shattered beneath his anger as it had been years since the house had been repaired.

The sixteenth century, to be exact.

He stared at the pool of blood that had calcified in the middle of the main room. The sight of it seemed to fuel his hatred and, when he looked up at the other man, his eyes were burning with the vision of his revenge.

'We will win this time, MacNair. We will win.'

Outside the cottage, above the canopy of the forests that shielded the house from the elements, lightning shot across the sky as he cackled to himself, the sound echoing through the trees.

* * *

Nathalie glared at the spot of blood that was on her nice, new, fluffy carpet.

She knew that saving Mason was the right thing to do, but how _dare_ he bleed on the carpet.

If he wasn't having such a shitty day she would've ripped him a new one and not felt sorry about it.

Sighing, she put down her bad mood to a lack of sleep and waved her hand in the direction of the blood spot, cleaning it up with a quick wandless _Scourgify_. She turned on the spot and, with a _pop!, _ appeared in her loft.

The loft was very different from the rest of the house. An undetectable extension charm had been cast on the room, making the fairly large room even bigger. Along the far wall were bookshelves, jam packed with the books that Nathalie considered to be essentials. On the other side were two smaller bookshelves that contained books she had been meaning to read. It was lit up entirely with candles and, unlike the rest of the house, was much more personalised.

This is where all of her personal effects went - her broom was placed carefully on a stand in the corner and there were many, many random magical objects scattered around the room, from magical cameras to cauldrons, even a pensieve. Sneakoscopes. Secrecy sensors. Chocolate frog cards. You name it, Nathalie probably had it.

Even her favourite photograph. One of her and Fred, taken at the Yule Ball as they sat at the edge of the dance floor, talking. It was a constant loop of Nathalie shoving a cupcake into Fred's face. The photo stood by itself on a desk, surrounded by candles, safely away from anything else in the room.

'Mistress,' Kreacher croaked, appearing behind her. She smiled at him as he handed her the moonstone that he had collected earlier in the day. 'This is a very magical object, Mistress.'

'Oh?' she enquired, staring into it.

The moonstone.

Looks like there was _some _merit to the Sun and the Moon curse after all. She could feel the magic humming through the stone; it was like it was a power source in itself. The feel of it in her palm reminded her vaguely of a horcrux; like there was a being trapped within it..

'_The Sun and Moon Curse_

_Said to be an ancient Aztec curse, the Sun and Moon Curse is said to be the reason why werewolves are restricted to turning only on a full moon and vampires may only walk in darkness. Legend state that the power of both vampires and werewolves combined were too much for the Muggles to handle, and many were being slaughtered unnecessarily, leading the Shaman to cast the curse that made the wolves 'servants of the moon' and vampires 'slaves to the sun'._

_In order to break this curse, a vampire, werewolf and Muggle blood sacrifice is required. The main component, however, is the moonstone. A highly magical object said to have locked the magic of the curse within it, one must take a witch and perform all three sacrifices beneath the light of the full moon and pour the blood of each creature on the stone to destroy it. Whilst wand-wielding witches have disputed the existence of such a curse despite evidence amongst ancient findings, because historical records state that werewolves have always been 'servants of the moon', the moonstone is still a highly coveted object due to its magical property. Any vampire or werewolf is always on the lookout for this object, on the off chance that the curse may be real.'_

She tossed it in the air and caught it before she turned back to Kreacher.

'Hide it.'

His large, bug eyes widened as he tried to process what she had just told him.

'Mistress?'

'You're good at hiding things, Kreacher,' she smiled gently at him. 'I trust you.'

Kreacher grinned, his old features crinkling under the strain of the unfamiliar expression. 'As you wish, Mistress! Kreacher would be honoured to hide the stone.' His tone was laced with glee as he puffed his chest out proudly at being given such a prestegious order.

She handed him the stone and he disappeared with a _crack!_, wondering what on Earth was going to come next.

* * *

It was becoming routine now.

Caroline and Nathalie sat in her kitchen, each nursing a drink as Camarin weaved her way in between their legs, looking for attention. Caroline was slumped in her chair as Nathalie looked at her, appraising the blonde vampire after her very long, hard day.

'I ended up compelling my mom,' Caroline said sadly. 'I mean, we had such a good talk and it was so, so nice for her to actually accept me. She wouldn't have accepted anyone else though, so what else was I supposed to do?'

'She's going to find out eventually, y'know,' Nathalie said gently, sipping her wine. 'Especially in this town.'

'I know,' Caroline sighed. 'I'm just not ready yet. I'm still totally neurotic and I literally cannot handle how dealing with it is going to make me feel. Can't I just do it later?'

Nat chuckled and shrugged. 'If it makes you feel better, I don't see why not.'

'It's not safe anyway,' Caroline noted. 'Katherine's back, and she's here for a reason. Plus she's super angry. She got Jenna to stab herself tonight.'

'I beg your pardon?' Nat raised an eyebrow in surprised. 'What the hell does that achieve?'

'Mason Lockwood's dead, and I think that caught her off guard. They had a thing and everything but I reckon he was just part of her plan. And now she's proving a point.'

'He's not dead,' Nat said casually.

'What? Stefan-'

'I apparated him out of there before Damon killed him and told him to leave. He's packed his things up and gone to Florida. I think he's going to Tennessee after though. He said there's a large pack there that would protect him if he needed it.'

'Why did you do that?' Caroline said, curious. 'I mean, what if he ends up finding Katherine?'

'He won't,' Nathalie said, a small smile on her face. 'You don't have to worry about Mason.'

'You seem pretty confident that he's gonna listen to you,' Caroline noted, eyebrow raised.

'I am,' Nat had a cheeky gleam in her eye, as if she knew something Caroline didn't. She winked, before downing the rest of her drink.

Caroline humphed, dropping her head into her arms. 'Do I even want to know?'

Nathalie shrugged before standing up and walking to her cupboards, having a look at what was inside. 'Any requests for dinner?'

* * *

Katherine paced back and forth in her bedroom, unable to fully comprehend how the Salvatore brothers had managed to pull one over on her. That had never happened before. She had never anticipated it ever happening, and perhaps, that was her biggest mistake.

'I apologise if I seem rattled,' she said absently. 'Circumstances have changed suddenly, and I had to adjust.' She moved towards her bed, sitting down on it and placing her hand on his knee. 'Mind control is a necessary evil. You see, I need a werewolf, and I've lost the one that I had. Now, tell me what you're going to do to help me get a new one.'

She squeezed his knee, and he blinked. Matt stared blankly into space as he repeated his orders.

'I'm going to go after Tyler Lockwood.'

She turned his face towards her, looking him right in the eye as she smirked. 'And you're not going to stop.'

'And I'm not gong to stop,' he said, monotone.

'Until?'

'Until he kills me.'

She grinned.

* * *

_Hello my lovely readers!_

_Apologies for the incredibly long wait. I've started university, worked full time for the summer + had a lot of personal issues that took my mind off this story._

_Plus, this chapter was very boring to write. I can't wait until the Originals come._

_I'm amazed at the response, though! So many followers. _

_Also, _**_I have made edits to previous chapters_**_, particularly to the werewolf information + Nat's ultimatum to Liz. You may be interested in reading them, although it isn't necessary if you can't be bothered._

**_Please review_**_! They truly are very motivating and I love reading them all. Plus, some of them are full of great ideas - maybe you'll see your ideas weaved into this story at some point.  
_

_Bonus points if you can guess which house Mulciber is hiding in. ;)_


	8. Author's Note - Sorry guys

Hello everyone. :)

Due to the fact that I've received multiple messages recently - many of them not particularly kind - I have decided to give you an explanation as to why I've not updated this story as of late.

I'd like to say that I primarily started writing this story for myself. I fully believe that part of its success is because I started writing whilst I was in a good place. I'm amazed by how many people are interested in it, like it, follow it, review it - and I'm so thankful for all of this - but that is definitely not why I started writing. I'm not a writer. I'm not a great writer, and will probably never be a great writer. But that's okay, because I write for myself, which means that I'll never be able to write to a schedule. It's just a very small hobby of mine. I'm sorry. I enjoy reading much more than I enjoy writing and I'm surprised I've got this far in the first place.

I suppose I best provide an explanation though, because that's what people are asking for. In the last year, my life has totally flipped upside down. I haven't been happy for a while. My long-term relationship ended suddenly and incredibly badly, I have been in and out of medical treatment, I've started and dropped out and started university again, I'm working a full time job sixty five hours a week, I've moved out and moved home again and moved cities three times, I live in a town where I have no friends outside of work - I just haven't had time to sit down and write, and I haven't had time to write to a standard that means I'm satisfied to share it on the internet. I haven't followed the Vampire Diaries for a long time. It's difficult to write about something that doesn't inspire you anymore especially when you're not in the right mindset. I'm not going to give up on this story because I'm proud of what I've written so far, but when you have to force your way though something it takes the fun out of it and the last chapter I posted was a bloody nightmare to write. I'm not sure if anyone's noticed, but I have been editing/rewriting chapters previously uploaded because I want to get into it again.

Now, I love constructive criticism. I really do. However, there's no need to bash me for not updating fanfiction, because I don't write to make others happy. I have responded and spoken to many of you through my PMs, and I'm glad that many of the questions I've been asked have been put to bed.

To 'Guest' in particular - thank you for keeping up with my story, and thank you for following for so long. Unfortunately, I can't respond to anyone who doesn't leave me any way to contact them, and I hate chapter long authors notes. I've already said that I can't reply to anyone who's anonymous. I apologise for disappointing you.

This story is not up for adoption. It will never be up for adoption. I'm not sure why that's even a question. At the end of the day, I owe nobody on the internet anything. If you choose not to follow my story anymore because I don't update regularly enough, then that's absolutely fine.

But! To end on a positive note, for the most part, you've all been incredibly lovely and many of you have been very understanding about the fact that life takes priority. Thank you so much for the lovely messages I have received amongst the shit, because it's so helpful when you're feeling down that someone genuinely cares about your wellbeing. I am in a very selfish place right now out of necessity, and I'm sorry. But I really appreciate all of the positive vibes from you all, and hopefully I'll have an update for you soon. Life is finally starting to settle down.


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